


I Took My Hater Out On A Date

by gallifreyanlibertea



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: FrUK as ex boyfriends, M/M, Youtuber AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-05-27 15:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15027242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyanlibertea/pseuds/gallifreyanlibertea
Summary: Alfred Jones had woken up to an interesting video from a popular British YouTuber named Arthur Kirkland. A unique YouTube drama ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

“Hello everyone, welcome back to my channel.” The man said. “Yes, that’s right, you thought you’d be rid of me when I was quite literally  _hospitalized_  only a week ago, but if you didn’t already know, making shitty reaction videos is my job and it’s the only way to pay the bill, so here I am.”

Alfred cracked a smile at that. He scooted up in his bed, rubbing the grogginess out of his eyes as the man continued to assure his viewers that he was alright,  _“I’m healing very well, don’t worry, that’s all you need to know”_ , all the typical things. There was nothing special, it seemed. At least, nothing to warrant the swarm of Twitter mentions and messages he’d woken up to. He’d been too tired to read them, but a quick scan told him two things: It was some big British YouTuber called ‘Arthur Kirkland’, and it was _imperative_  that Alfred watched his latest video.

“Now, most of you seemed to take what I had said in my last video seriously- mind you, one that I’d filmed on  _pain medication.”_  Arthur huffed out a smile, and Alfred watched, brows rising as screenshots of several different comments popped up on the screen next to Arthur’s head:  _Have you heard of Alfred Jones?; OMG you and Alfred!; Alfred would be PERFECT!; …_

“Look, when I said I had a weird kink for loud Americans in my last video, I wasn’t really expecting you to set me up with the first gay American YouTuber out there-” Arthur then shrugged, “Listen, I’d never heard of this man before in my life, but I’ve checked him out and I have to say… of all the people you could’ve set me up with, you had to give me some  _obnoxious gamer,_ didn’t you?”

Oh.

Well, Alfred understood the fuss now.

He understood after Arthur had begun to react to some of Alfred’s videos- “I just don’t understand what this channel even is. I suppose that high subscriber count of his is a testament to how many annoying twelve-year-old boys exist, seeing as that  _has_  to be the only viewer demographic.”

Ouch. Yeah,  _now_  Alfred understood the urgency with which his fans had presented the video to him.

“I suppose he  _is_  like what I’d described I wanted, but let me specify that I like my Americans only half as annoying and farther away from me, so I wouldn’t have to hear just how loud they are.”

Alfred clicked out of the brutal video with burning cheeks, searching for the previous video to see for himself what Arthur had said in it that prompted viewers to think of Alfred.

“I saw a tourist the other day,” Arthur said to the camera. “God,  _tourists_. But this one was American, and I don’t know if I’ve ever said this to you all, but I’ve got a weird kink for Americans. I don’t know, maybe I’m stereotyping. I’m not particularly crazy for the accent, but… from what I’ve seen, they’re very tall and quite talkative, I think it’s charming sometimes. This one was tan, had glasses and such pretty blue eyes,  _dear God_ glasses undo me, I didn’t know I was stalking him until he gave me a polite, sort of scared smile. Dimpled too, I honest to God went weak in the knees. I’ll never see him again, though, what a shame.” And Arthur had sighed on screen before moving on to a different topic.

Well, Alfred saw why he’d been selected. He was by no means a narcissist, but he thought he fit almost  _exactly_  into the description, so he had no idea why this Arthur guy was so rude about it! 

Well, obviously Alfred had to reply. His ego had been bruised beyond repair! However, this hadn’t been Alfred’s first ‘YouTuber beef’. Alfred was an easy target, it seemed, for YouTubers who made reaction videos.

And yes, Alfred did have a younger demographic, as Arthur had so astutely observed. So, Alfred had expanded the purpose of his channel to appeal to a wider audience- ‘Mattie Does My Makeup’ videos for the ‘squealy’ crowd that seemed to love the idea of Alfred in makeup; Scripted ‘Squad’ videos where he filmed shenanigans with his brother and a couple of his friends, for the older crowd; and, well, video games for the younger ones. 

He liked filming them all, so it wasn’t too much trouble, and since he’d started,  _it worked._ His subscriber count had skyrocketed. So yes, Alfred wouldn’t be apologizing for the medley of video types on his channel.

The higher subscriber count had brought with it an interesting crowd as well. A… fandom. Of course, no YouTuber was truly popular if there wasn’t any fanfiction.

 _Good God,_  the fanfiction.

Alfred had sat down to read a couple of them and groaned at the terrifyingly abundant amount of ones pairing him  _with his brother,_ but all that meant Alfred had fans devoted enough to write about him. So not only were there more subscribers, there was more  _subscriber loyalty_. It was needless to say, Alfred won almost all of the petty battles the smaller reaction channels declared against him.

Arthur’s case, however, was not that simple. A quick Google search showed Alfred that Arthur had quite the hefty amount of fanfiction as well.  _Damnit!_

Well, Alfred could choose not to answer. But that meant Arthur would’ve won, and Alfred  _did not_  like to lose. It wasn’t his brand. He was  _Alfred Jones_ , he’d risen to popularity by his strategic video game tactic, and, well, of course, his dazzling good looks had helped- but mainly,  _he always won_. His reputation was at stake!

Perhaps he was overthinking it. Maybe he could get away with laying low. Maybe it would make this Arthur guy look like a bully.

He’d be a bully, yes, but one with a number of subscribers dangerously close to Alfred’s and therefore, one with an influence dangerously close to Alfred’s. 

So yes, this was war. That was the only safe option. Alfred washed his face, set up his camera and waved with his signature grin. “Hey, guys! So I just woke up, if you can’t tell, and boy am I receiving a lot of-”

He then paused, turning off the camera with a frustrated growl. No, he didn’t want to make an entire video about it- it had to be breezy, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t affected, like he didn’t care.

He got into the mindset- He didn’t care! _It didn’t matter._  So he called up his friends at nine AM in the morning and drafted a small speech about what he would say- you know, for optimal nonchalance.

He titled the video  _‘What Did I Wake Up To?_ ’, in which he’d asked his friend before filming to ask Alfred if he’d seen Arthur’s video. This would take place as they were playing a video game, just an offhand comment.

The title, of course, would suggest that the video would be entirely about Arthur, but no, it wouldn’t. Alfred wouldn’t give Arthur the satisfaction. Instead, the title would actually reference maybe… some sort of skit at the beginning of the video, yeah. Something ridiculous. Cue the funny commentary, the fighting, all the works. 

A partially-scripted yelling match later, they’d settled onto the couch in front of their camera to play a few rounds.

“I wouldn’t want you to lose after that whole video thing,” Gilbert taunted, furiously jerking his console around. “Your little heart wouldn’t be able to take it.”

“Video?” Alfred said, genuine surprise in the furrow of his brow because _he hadn’t been a lead in all his high school plays for nothing._  “The one with that British guy talking about why he wouldn’t date me?” Alfred scoffed, turning his attention back to the T.V. screen to mutter, “Yeah, I’m good, I have standards.”

Gilbert snorted. Alfred followed up with a- “Besides, I’d never date anyone who can spend that much time complaining on camera.”

And that was it. That was all Alfred would say, and he’d assumed that was where the drama would end. Arthur would watch, be butthurt, but recognize the air of nonchalance and just back off.

Of course, next week, Alfred hadn’t expected to see a video trending on youtube with the title  _‘Why I’d Never Date Alfred Jones’,_  and a thumbnail photo of an exasperated Arthur Kirkland. Alfred clicked to watch, abandoning his breakfast to prop his phone up against the table, putting Arthur’s video on fullscreen.

“Hello, everyone! To those who came to my channel from Alfred Jones’ new video and aren’t currently in my comment section  _bombarding_  me with badly-spelled hate messages, welcome!”

Said hate messages popped up on the screen, with content so ridiculous that Alfred was smiling. He didn’t know when he’d started to. He snapped his expression back to one of indifference, as if Arthur could actually see him.

“I actually do more than spend hours complaining on camera,” Arthur said. He then winked, “I also happen to sell merch, so go on down to the link in my description. I’ve just restocked it all.”

Alfred snorted at all the clever zooming, the clever commentary, the clever merch plug. The guy was funny, there was no doubt about it. Alfred would’ve enjoyed watching him. That was, of course, when Arthur wasn’t making an entire video dedicated to dragging Alfred through the mud.

Even then, Alfred found that he didn’t mind watching. There was no doubt he got angry with the situation, naturally, but if he thought about it from the business aspect, drama meant more views. It meant more of Arthur’s fans knowing who Alfred was. Alfred was essentially gaining a British audience, and maybe Arthur knew he was going to gain an American one, so no harm was done there.

Arthur’s criticism of Alfred wasn’t necessarily too hurtful either.

“Can we all just admit that the reason he still has followers is because he’s hot?”

Alfred’s cheeks had flushed pink as Arthur shrugged on screen, unbothered.

“Look, I know I’m hating on him right now, but you can’t deny it. Look at him, he’s hot.” He’d been paused on a near recent video of Alfred playing Mario Kart with Gilbert on the couch. “He wears those god-awful lumpy sweatshirts all the time, but I can tell there’s something worthwhile underneath that.”

Alfred frowned down at his sweatshirt.

The compliments were short-lived, however, because Arthur then said- “As pretty of a face as he does have, I’d still never subject myself to his _mind-numbingly_  boring and clichéd content, nor would I subject myself to a date with someone with a loud, annoying,  _cookie-cutter_ online personality. You could literally visit any other gaming channel and they all sound the same. It’s fascinating, really.”

Alfred winced. Jeez. Arthur really did go all out.

Alfred wasn’t sure if he could do the same. It’s not that he didn’t have the willpower to, no, because he most definitely did. Alfred wanted to wipe that smug smile off Arthur’s face more than anything. But making whole videos to bash people had never really been his… thing.

Arthur’s content consisted of watching others and poking fun. And Alfred supposed he could interest some of his younger viewers by making a rant video, but he wasn’t very good at eloquently crafting an argument, of mimicking Arthur’s theme of juxtaposing a ‘roast’ of Alfred’s content with slight flattery to make it all lighthearted.

He supposed he could try.  _People only watch you because you-_ and the compliment would go here, but what would he say?  _Because you’ve got a hot accent-_ and that Arthur did! But maybe also  _because you’ve got a pretty face,_ because he did have those striking cheekbones and those subtle freckles Alfred found himself engrossed with counting while Arthur talked.  _Because your eyes are the greenest I’ve ever seen, because you’ve got a cute little mole next to your bottom lip-_  oh, and don’t get Alfred started on that bottom lip.

Arthur was attractive. Alfred hated the guy, but there was no denying that Alfred would still fuck him senseless if he had the chance.

But anyway- when it came to the actual roast, of actually finding something to pick at, Alfred drew a blank. He supposed that could be a problem.

“Just watch his videos.” Matthew suggested, “Maybe you’ll find something that way?”

“No, I  _have_  looked at them,” Alfred said, frustratedly. He supposed he could talk about the videos Arthur had sprinkled in his channel, with what seemed to be Arthur’s boyfriend, an MUA, doing Arthur’s makeup. But frankly, Arthur looked good in the makeup, so there was nothing there. Alfred could lie and make fun of Arthur’s ‘pasty face’, but, well, Alfred had a young audience. It would give them a bad message. 

Besides, Alfred’s conscience would batter him if he even  _thought_ about doing it. 

Perhaps he could talk about the ones of Arthur playing his guitar? There was a playlist dedicated to the videos as well, with Arthur’s voice crooning songs as he strummed lazily with his fingers, eyes glancing up at the camera with soft laughs when he messed up-

Alfred hadn’t noticed the heat in his cheeks until Matthew looked at him weirdly. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I am,” Alfred muttered. “I looked at the videos. I can’t find anything. I guess I could make stuff up, but I just… I don’t feel right about it.”

“The guy’s a dick.” Gilbert pressed, “Besides, he made stuff up about  _you_ , so you shouldn’t even be having a conscience right now. If you can’t think of anything, I’m sure as hell I can.”

“I’m not him. I don’t want to escalate anything by saying the wrong words-” Alfred shook his head. “The guy’s probably some fuckin’ English major, he looks like he’d be so calculated, like he’d twist my words around or… use rhetoric or something, I’m not about to throw verbal hands with that.”

“So you’re just gonna let him drag you.” Gilbert snorted, leaning back against the couch with a shake of his head.

“I don’t know what to do!” Alfred sighed, thumb frustratedly jamming the pause button on his T.V. remote to freeze Arthur’s video on the screen. He’d been playing it softly in the background hoping for inspiration. He found, instead, that listening to Arthur insult him repeatedly on screen, in front of his friends, didn’t do much for his creativity.

It didn’t do much for Gilbert’s mood either. The man huffed, sinking into the couch with a cross of his arms, with the loyalty of a stubborn, but good, friend.

Alfred glanced at Matthew helplessly to find his brother’s eyebrows drawn together in thought. Matthew pursed his lips, eyeing the video, eyeing Alfred’s slightly flushed cheeks, eyeing the floor he’d been sitting cross-legged on.

“Well, who said you’d have to roast him back?”

“He can’t  _not_  do anything.” Gilbert reasoned, to which Matthew’s lips spread in a small smile.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have to drag him. There’s more than one way to end drama.” Matthew said. “He already thinks you’re attractive, so go with it. Besides, everyone loves YouTube relationships as much as they love YouTube beef, so use that to your advantage.”

Alfred could work with the idea.

It had been vague when Matthew suggested it, but it became clearer what Alfred had to do the longer he thought about it. He glanced at Arthur’s face on the T.V., a slow smile spreading onto his lips.  _Oh, this would be good._

So Alfred set up his camera to film again. When he posted the video, he titled it  _‘Why Arthur Kirkland Should Date Me’_ and he watched the views skyrocket.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't post yesterday because something got in the way;; sorry about that

Arthur barely heard the text notification over his yowling cats. Of course, the beasts only got louder once he turned his attention away from them in pursuit of his phone. They thumped his leg, stomped on his foot. Arthur sighed defeatedly as his fingers curled back into his palm. It seemed his cats weren’t going to let him check his messages until they’d been fed.

Honestly, they acted like Arthur starved them. 

Arthur scraped the food into their food bowls, pausing momentarily at the sound of yet another phone notification, to which his second kitten, Gregory, mewled yet again at Arthur’s distraction.

“Alright,  _alright.”_ Arthur snapped. He finished dispensing the food and his cats went to town, to which Arthur’s annoyed, furrowed brows ironed out with a slight, forgiving smile. He couldn’t stay mad at them for long. He reached to scratch their ears as they ate, only to be startled by yet another notification. It was one too many from what Arthur usually received at such a quiet, boring time as one twenty-three PM.

Most of his friends were at work by that time. Arthur would’ve been as well, had it not been for the fact that he’d slipped in his bathtub and nearly snapped his back in two a few days ago- he chose never to explain that incident in detail to his YouTube subscribers, who no doubt saw him as a young, sarcastic and somewhat robust man. It was an illusion he hadn’t been so quick to shatter, so he’d told them he was hospitalized and that was all they needed to know. 

It wasn’t exactly a lie so much as it was a half-truth.

Arthur had been leaning to check his messages when he was startled by five firm knocks on his front door. He scrambled to brush the cat hair off his sweater before he opened the door to-  _“Francis?_ Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I left early. Have you seen it?” Francis said, lips spreading in what seemed to be a mocking smile.”That American’s new video?”

“Wh- what? I-”

Francis helped himself into Arthur’s apartment, squatting by Arthur’s coffee table to retrieve Arthur’s laptop from underneath, all with the familiarity of an ex- live-in boyfriend.

It put a sour taste in Arthur’s mouth to remember that he’d actually dated Francis Bonnefoy.

Francis hated cats, Arthur hated the French, Arthur wasn’t quite sure how it had all worked out for three months, much less a minute.

He supposed the sex had been good. _Really good_. That was all their relationship had been, really. It lacked any substance, it had moved far too fast, it was  _far too sloppy,_ which made it all the more easier for Arthur when Francis finally grew bored of Arthur and broke things off.

Nevertheless, Arthur found that he was never able to truly get rid of Francis Bonnefoy. He hadn’t minded that sometimes.

He minded it now, as he watched Francis nearly step on a cat in his hurry to sit on the couch.

“Watch out for Greg!” Arthur hissed.

Francis paused. His lip curled. “I’ll never understand your choice of pet names.”

“The name means _to watch,_ to be alert.” Arthur sniffed. “Cats deserve meaningful names as well, you know, he’s got those sharp ears and those big eyes, like he’s always looking for something-”

“You named the first one  _Biscuit.”_

“I thought it was cute!”

Francis rolled his eyes and went back to work. Arthur eyed him as he threw Arthur’s laptop open, with long painted fingernails clacking on the keys.

“I hardly think it’s that important, Francis.” Arthur scoffed.  ****Curiosity gnawed at the pit of Arthur’s stomach, but Francis didn’t need to know that.

See, all Francis would need to know was that Alfred Jones, that  _annoyingly_ attractive American YouTuber, was nothing more than an insignificant part of Arthur’s YouTube career. Arthur’s subscribers had brought Alfred to Arthur’s attention, and Arthur had done what he did best, what his viewers liked best. He’d reacted to Alfred’s videos.

Besides, it was shockingly easy to make fun of Alfred, just as it was to poke fun at any gaming YouTuber, really. Arthur never had understood the hype.

He recalled almost groaning at the thought of having to watch Alfred’s videos to find something to talk about. He’d clicked on them reluctantly. He wasn’t exactly eager to spend his time watching something he knew for a fact he wouldn’t enjoy, even if it was for the sake of his ‘career’.

He supposed he’d judged the book by its cover, but that form of evaluation almost always worked when it came to gaming YouTubers.  _They were all the same._  With their same, screamy, juvenile content. Their same ‘squads’ playing games together, their same scripted content. Arthur never understood how they gained so many subscribers.

And there had been no plot twist, no sudden realization that,  _wow, I’d misunderstood this Alfred Jones all along!_ Because Arthur had truly hated the first video he’d seen. 

That particular video had been Alfred and his mates playing a game with commentary voiced over. It had been dreadful to watch, so painfully boring. Arthur never understood how it could be entertaining to watch others play a game and not actually play it yourself.

Arthur had, however, smiled a little-  _maybe a little_ \- at some of Alfred’s light humor, sprinkled in between censored curse words and loud laughter. That was all.

It wasn’t until he’d watched a video with Alfred’s actual face in view that everything struck him. 

The other video had the game in full view with a small window in the corner where Arthur could see Alfred and his friends playing. He’d skipped to the middle to watch it and left almost a minute after, so Arthur hadn’t gotten to see that deliciously strong jawline in clear view, full lips parting for dimpled grins, broad shoulders clad in that sweatshirt of his.

Suddenly, Arthur found it difficult to piece together his argument. He was at a loss for words when words were the things he desperately needed to conjure up- dry-humored, cynical words, ones that had never failed to entertain his viewers. 

Well, it was easy to draft something vicious, of course. Arthur never ran dry on ways to insult a person, but he needed to find something… genuine.

Arthur liked to think his videos were an extension of him. Nothing was scripted. He’d just talk and talk and edit out the rough parts, but it seemed everything he had to say about Alfred was a rough part. He’d gone on for minutes flaming Alfred’s content in front of his camera until it had figuratively laid in simmering ashes at Arthur’s feet, but when Arthur re-watched the footage, he felt something missing. 

He didn’t know what.

It was strange, considering that Alfred had an  _enormous_  amount of content, which meant more for Arthur to talk about. That meant it would be easier to find material for a reaction video, right?

Arthur’s research had started out with a wide sweep of the channel. He could’ve easily poked fun at just the amount of playlists the lad had- it seemed he made a video about  _everything._

There was a gaming channel. Arthur had passed that one almost immediately, not wanting to torture himself any longer. He’d already had enough to say about those videos.

There was a… conspiracy theory channel? Arthur had paused upon seeing that, wondering if his eyes deceived him. He’d clicked onto it to find videos about faked moon landings, Mandela effects, theories as to how the world would end- Alfred seemed to be very well versed in his research.

“Hey guys,” Alfred started all his conspiracy videos with chilling music. Arthur liked to pretend it never got to him, but he had clicked out of the video that night and watched it the next morning, in broad daylight. “I have a brand new conspiracy to talk about and- wow, I honestly could not see anything the same after researching it.”

That low, husky voice Alfred put on for the videos, Alfred’s knowledge on the matter- it gave Arthur… mad-scientist vibes. Arthur hadn’t known he’d been blushing profusely until he’d clicked out of the video and taken a break for a quick glass of water.

Arthur couldn’t help his attraction to the strangest little things. He had a thing for tourists, for conspiracists, for glasses, for a nice tall build, and Alfred was inconveniently _all of those._ Alfred was annoyingly,  _incredibly,_ attractive, and there was no denying it.

But hell, Arthur found many things attractive. Even  _Francis_ was attractive (which was something Arthur would never tell him) but that had never stopped Arthur from making fun of him.

So yes, Arthur found ample things to discuss in his video, but he had never been content with a single take. In fact, he’d contemplated giving up on the idea, but he couldn’t afford to pass up on making a video that almost guaranteed viewer satisfaction, what with the sheer amount of Twitter posts, YouTube comments, Instagram DMs and whatnot that practically begged Arthur to consider Alfred Jones.

He would simply have to make it work. He’d scanned his thirteenth take, in which he’d been sitting in front of the camera with a sneer on his lips. “I don’t know just how offended I should be that you lot selected someone so  _unbelievably annoying_ , so humorless, so-”

And Arthur had winced, just a little. Despite the fact that his viewers adored his rant videos, Arthur didn’t have the heart to be so cruel this time. At least not without some sort of filter. Besides, he wasn’t exactly keen on having Alfred Jones superfans flooding his comment section.

So Arthur had found a comfortable middle-ground. He indulged his viewers in the mockery while diluting it for the sake of diplomacy- er, however much diplomacy could be managed with a Reaction YouTuber’s videos.

_“As pretty of a face as he does have, I’d still never subject myself to his mind-numbingly boring and clichéd content, nor would I subject myself to a date with someone with a loud, annoying, cookie-cutter online personality.”_

Arthur wasn’t wrong. Alfred was attractive, and Arthur had been pleased with the take. It hadn’t been _too_  harsh. It had just the right amounts of everything, just enough not to make Arthur feel too guilty. After all, he complimented Alfred! Even if it was just a little.

It also helped that Alfred wasn’t there in person. Arthur doubted he could say anything remotely rude in front of those big blue eyes.

… or maybe he could. Arthur didn’t know. That was the whole point of the situation, because Alfred was a YouTuber on Arthur’s laptop screen. It didn’t feel real. It made it all the more easier for Arthur.

It also didn’t help that Alfred was predictable as well. When Alfred had replied, it was as Arthur had expected. It was like a game of chess. It was hardly two people in a petty fight- Arthur assumed that if this were in person, that was what it would be. But because it was online, it felt like a battle, a war.

See, he’d learned a lot from dating a popular MUA, and it was that YouTube interactions between two well-known creators were hardly ever just an interaction. It was a tactic. It carried benefits.

When Alfred had said, “Besides, I’d never date anyone who can spend that much time complaining on camera”, Arthur had raised his brows. He’d checked the comment section to find some of Arthur’s subscribers meagerly defending him. How cute.

He’d checked his twitter to find the brewings of a feud. Subscribers of Alfred’s fought ones of Arthur, subscribers of both were eager for more. Oh god, Arthur had even found hate-to-love fanfiction-

The viewers were not letting this go. Therefore, Arthur would not be letting this go. He would not be sparing Alfred Jones.

It seemed Alfred wouldn’t be sparing Arthur either. Arthur checked his messages as Francis searched for Alfred’s latest video, one he  _absolutely had to watch,_  apparently, because Arthur’s first message had been from an ex-roommate that Arthur still kept in contact with, Bharat:

_Have you seen it????_

Another had been from his older brother, Allistair:

_Watch the new vid, am honestly cryin HAHA its what you get fer fuckin round on yt all the time_

And two others had been from Francis:

_MDR did you see??_

_I’m coming over I’m almost there_

It seemed Alfred wasn’t sparing Arthur either, because Arthur found his expression contorting into one of pain every second of Alfred’s latest video, wondering what exactly on  _God’s green earth_ was Alfred’s plan. 

It was unpredictable, and Arthur never made his next move until he knew what his opponent was up to.

Francis had let the cursor hover over a video on the trending page titled _‘Why Arthur Kirkland Should Date Me’._  Arthur’s eyebrows had shot up. “Wh… what?”

Francis had clicked the video with a smirk. “Trust me, it gets worse.”

“Hey, what’s up you guys! I’m back again with another video.” A chipper Alfred said on the screen. “I’m gonna assume you all know why I’m making this. A YouTuber I’d never seen before- and trust me, I would never have forgotten a face like that if I had.” Alfred winked. 

Arthur choked on air. Francis bit back a smile. 

“He’s been dragging me to hell and back, and his recent video was particularly interesting to me.”

A thumbnail link of the video popped up on the screen. Well, at least, Arthur was getting some advertisement.

“Come on now, dude, this isn’t kindergarten! For a guy that spent a good ten minutes talking about how childish _I_ am, you’re not so much better yourself.”

Arthur had frowned quizzically, not entirely sure of where the message had been going.

“You think  _I’m_ hot, I think _you’re_  hot-”

What.

“I mean, I’ll look past the huge eyebrows and the fact that you wear the same type of sweater in all your videos, if you can look past my  _cookie-cutter online personality._ I took the liberty to make a video just for you, in the hopes that you’ll just drop the act and slide into my DMs.”

Arthur furrowed his brows. Alfred was a clever lad. A clever, _clever_ lad, it seemed, because, well, _this_ was Alfred’s plan. If Arthur made another, normal reaction video, there would be no changing of the fact that millions of viewers now thought Arthur was some schoolgirl with a crush, some schoolgirl in denial.

Arthur watched the scene cut to Alfred lifting weights in the low, orangey light of a gym-

“I work out!”

-then, to Alfred on some sort of gymnastic mat, doing impressive backflips and other… bendy things, “I’m flexible if you know what I mean.”

Arthur watched, red-faced, as Alfred winked on screen. The scene then switched to Alfred playing with a pet- a fat, fluffy white cat with brown ears. “I saw in a video that you liked cats. I have one too! His name’s Hero!”

That bit was predictable. It was easy to see that the Alfred was a comic book buff from the figurines that lined the room he filmed in, the posters on his walls.

Now, Alfred was on a couch, scrolling his phone with a big, cheesy smile. “I just googled your height, and I think you’d fit just perfectly in my arms. People tell me I’m real warm.”

This was ridiculous. Surely Alfred had to know that! Arthur’s cheeks burned red in embarrassment. He was suddenly aware of Francis’ presence, those blue, mocking, _laughing_  eyes of his drilling into Arthur’s mortified body.

And finally, much to Francis’ glee and the twist in the pit of Arthur’s stomach, Alfred took off his sweatshirt. He took off the shirt underneath it, displaying a  _deliciously_  tanned expanse of toned muscle. Alfred grinned cheekily, and Arthur felt his insides flutter. “And last of all, because _this_  is what’s under my sweatshirt.”

“That bastard,” Arthur muttered as the video came to an end. “I- I don’t even know what he… that cheeky bastard.”

“I say you accept his proposal,” Francis joked. Arthur ignored him.

“I’ve got to do something, Francis. I can’t just let him- I… I need to match his play, but I can’t just  _do something like this,_  God knows I don’t have that in me!”

“Stop blubbering. Does it always have to be a play with you?” Francis scoffed, “Maybe he likes you.”

“Oh come on,” Arthur rose from the couch, taking to pacing in his living room, “He’s doing this for views and I know it. Fans go crazy over gay subtext like this.”

“It’s hardly  _sub_ -text.”

Arthur ignored him again. “I’m not going to let myself be ridiculed like this.”

Arthur filmed a new video the next week, in which he’d taken to coming up with a list, similar to Alfred. He’d filmed in various locations, similar to Alfred. Arthur matched the play.

“Sometimes I box after a stressful day,” Arthur had said as Francis filmed him in the ring, boxing glove-clad hands poised up, “I can quite easily knock a tooth out.”

The scene switched to Arthur sifting through his mail. “I’ve got all these bills that I’m paying with my job. In case you’re not sure what that is, it’s an adult responsibility. To put it into terms you might understand, my job is like a… um,  _quest_  that I complete to gain coins, money, um…  _V-Bucks,_  so I can pay for ‘cool stuff’! Like rent! And it’s very important, so I’d rather not be bothered with children dragging my name into videos for viewer satisfaction.”

And there was much, much more. Oh,  _so_  much more. Arthur titled the video  _‘Why Alfred Jones Should Fuck Off’_ and posted it with a smug smile on his lips.

It was trending a week later.

Arthur scrolled through his email notifications absentmindedly, watching his subscriber count grow, as his free hand stroked Biscuit on his lap.

See, Arthur could admit that all the new subscribers did make him feel a _little bit nice._ Maybe that made him slightly egotistical.He liked to see his email chock full of the notifications. He liked to scroll through them, when he had nothing else to do, and recently, he’d had quite a few in his inbox. With the time he’d taken off work, he’d also had quite a few moments in his day when he had nothing else to do.

He then paused. He blinked. His lips curved up in a slight smile.

_Alfred Jones has subscribed to you on YouTube!_


	3. Chapter 3

“Do you think he really hates me?” Alfred said, leaning back against his couch. “I mean, he has a lot to say in his videos, but like, does he really hate me  _that much?”_

“Where did this come from?” Matthew peered over the kitchen counter, knife in hand. 

“Just… wonderin’.”

“Well does it matter? He’s advertising for you.“ He paused from buttering some toast. “I mean, if you really want to know, just ask him.”

Ah, yes,  _just ask._  It was easier said than done. It could be  _easily done_. That is, if Alfred was in some fanfiction.

The Alfred in viewer-written fanfictions always, despite being extremely in character, made braver decisions, better choices. It became something of an addiction for Alfred to read them, especially if they were in his point of view, to trace his thought process. 

See, the Alfred in fanfictions always found a way to talk to Arthur.

It seemed foolish, but the Alfred other people thought he was ended up being so smooth, so natural, and hell, if it was so in character, Alfred should’ve been able to do it as well, right? He should’ve been able to just message the guy. It wasn’t as if it would’ve come off as strange because it was months now that they went back and forth through their videos.

Arthur would call him an idiot, Alfred would coo about how adorable he found it that Arthur was in denial, and the cycle repeated. The internet ate it up. The hate comments Alfred had initially received from Arthur’s fans became  _Please date! OMG they’re so cute!!!_ And Alfred hadn’t minded one bit. It would be foolish of Arthur to have minded because his subscriber count had skyrocketed and he’d gained a whole new American audience.

But, well, like everything overdone, things got old. Alfred could feel the viewers’ interest dipping, just slightly. And Arthur- well, he still hated Alfred but he started  _hating him less_ and Alfred had wanted to do something about it for a while now. He’d wanted to _just ask,_ so he messaged Arthur on Twitter that afternoon.  _ **Hey, Arthur :)**_

He hadn’t expected Arthur’s response to be so instantaneous.

_**So you’ve finally decided to message me. To what do I owe the pleasure?** _

That’s where Alfred drew the blank. Why exactly had he messaged him? What had been the plan?

_To get Arthur hating him more?_ To regain viewer interest? How far did YouTube fights go anyway? Well, Alfred supposed he could go all the way to England and threaten to physically assault Arthur, but the viewers weren’t going to like that.

Needless to say, Alfred didn’t like that either.

So no, this would not be going further. But if there was one thing the viewers liked, it was Alfred and Arthur together.

If there was one thing Matthew always counseled Alfred about, what every YouTuber knew to be a fact, it was that viewers must always be entertained. That’s how it was in the industry, and a good YouTuber found the balance between living out their own passion and indulging subscribers.

Alfred would have to find that. 

_**I was wondering if you’d want to collaborate on a video!**_  Alfred said. That seemed to be the best idea, didn’t it? Why fight when you could be together in a better way? 

Arthur replied quickly yet again.  _ **Why would I want to do that?**_

Oh.

It seemed Arthur really was hanging on to that hatred- the one in all the videos, that sneer on his lip that Alfred had hoped wasn’t genuine. Matthew had watched that video with him,  _‘Why Alfred Jones Should Fuck Off’_ , and they’d laughed because it seemed to be a joke. Arthur hitting a punching bag with Alfred’s face on it,  _slight muscle definition peeking through his slightly-damp, tight tank top-_ it was funny.

The thought that all that hatred might  _actually_ be real put a shudder down his spine. He turned his phone off, leaving Arthur’s question on read.

Well, he left it on read long enough for his chest to practically _burn_  in the need to reply. He turned his phone back on just in time for Arthur to send him another DM. it seemed he wasn’t very patient either.

_**What did you have in mind? Am I going to have to book a ticket to the states so I can come play your new video game with the ‘squad’?** _

Alfred chuckled. Just a little. After all, he did have to remember that these jokes were being made at his expense.

It also reminded him that Arthur Kirkland was subscribed to him. He’d made a video just last week about a new game he’d ordered- just a mundane vlog, and  _Arthur had seen it._ Alfred knew Arthur was subscribed, he’d subscribed almost an hour after Alfred had, but he’d always wondered if Arthur actually watched his videos like Alfred watched Arthur’s.

It felt like religious lately. Every two weeks, Arthur posted a video and Alfred watched it as soon as the notification popped up on his phone that Arthur had posted. He’d been at the Supermarket once. He’d rushed to self-checkout and scrambled to his parked car to watch the video, earbuds in, a slight smile on his face as Arthur vented about an annoying coworker on camera.

Gilbert had something to say about Alfred’s habit. “You don’t even watch my videos that quickly.” He’d grumbled, to which Alfred had paused, a bit tongue-tied.

“It’s- well, I  _need_  to watch them, he talks about me sometimes, yanno, I gotta keep up.”

“Yeah, you  _gotta.”_

Alfred wondered if Arthur did the same.

He looked at his phone, eyes glazed over as he raked his mind for something he could do- he’d texted Arthur, of course, but he really should’ve thought it all through.

He was never good at thinking things through. Especially not without sensible counsel. 

He really should’ve waited for counsel, but this felt urgent.  _It had to be done._ Matthew wasn’t around and  _screw Matthew,_  because Alfred was talking to  _Arthur Kirkland_  and it was going by so fast-

_**I could interview you?**_  Alfred sent it, chewing his lip as he waited for a reply. This one took longer than the rest. It almost seemed like Arthur was doing it on purpose, making him wait after Alfred put an idea out on the line, worrying him. It seemed like an Arthur thing to do.

Then again, it could’ve been something else, but attributing villain-like motives to Arthur Kirkland always felt plausible.

Arthur replied. **About what?**

At the risk of sounding unprepared, Alfred settled for a winky emoji and a cryptic message.  _ **That can be a surprise. I like genuine answers and reactions ;)**_

Arthur replied quickly and if Alfred squinted, he read panic in between the lines of Arthur’s message.  ** _I don’t know how I feel about that._**

_It’s up to you-_ Alfred deleted the message before he sent it. He drafted another one,  _Do you have a different idea?-_  He deleted that one again with a frustrated huff.

He didn’t need to think of another one. Arthur sent another message.  ** _Besides, I’m always genuine. So what time?_**

Alfred jerked up with a grin. _How about right now-_  He stilled. He had to think things through… he needed time. ** _I have somewhere to be today but I get back at 3. Maybe 4?_**

**You live in Washington, yes? That would be twelve AM my time. Time Zones exist, dear.** Arthur said.

_Dear._ It took Alfred a bit too long to read the DM with the sarcastic tone Arthur had most likely intended. Alfred’s cheeks flushed red.  _ **Right, sorry. Tomorrow?**_

Arthur replied quick. ** _No, nevermind. T_** _ **welve AM is fine. It’s the weekend after all. Skype?**_

**_Sweet!_**  Was Alfred’s reply.  ** _Yeah, Skype. Just give me your username and I’ll add you!_**

It was not sweet. And needless to say, Alfred had nowhere to go that day. He holed himself up in his room and blinked at a blank document, d _ear god what would he ask Arthur Kirkland?_

He hadn’t given it much thought before he went all in- Maybe he’d call Matthew for help? Gilbert? He groaned, nearly letting his head thud on the keyboard in frustration when neither of them picked up.

It was Alfred’s fault for being hasty and he would have to pay the price. 

He caught his reflection in his laptop screen when it went black from inactivity.  _Shit._ Alfred had a zit!

After a quick detour to scrub his face and put on a mask, he sat back in front of his laptop. He titled the document  _CONFRONTING MY HATER_. Yes, that was an attractive title. He nearly smiled in self-congratulation before the tightness of his facemask rudely impeded him.

He typed out a few prospective questions.  _That’ll do._

He then glanced at the time in the top right corner of his screen. It was dangerously close to four, _shit._ He washed his face, wondered why he was surprised to see his zit still very apparent on his forehead, and slipped on a sweatshirt with a hood large enough to conceal it.

Before he knew it, he was setting his lights up, checking his appearance in the mirror,  _did he want to wear glasses?_

He recalled Arthur’s video, the one in which he claimed he found glasses attractive. That somehow made the decision for Alfred. He slipped on his glasses.

Mind you, there was nothing wrong with wanting to make a good first impression! Alfred was always nervous when it came to meetings. His breath stuck in his chest as he opened the Skype app. He listened to the call tone as his heart crept lower into his stomach with every repetition.

Arthur wasn’t as punctual with answering the call as he was with the DM.

He didn’t seem to care about impressions either because he answered in a dim room, a bored, lethargic expression on his face as he blinked at the screen.

“Hello?” Arthur’s voice was a low growl, most probably from the fact that it was late, but Alfred couldn’t help but to exhale, a quivering, perhaps one could call it a  _why am I attracted_  type exhale. What could he say? Americans did have a thing for those deep British accents. “Can you see me?”

Alfred forgot he hadn’t enabled his video camera. He chose to remain that way for a bit longer, to regain composure. “Yeah, hi, my laptop isn’t working, give me a minute.”

Arthur grunted slightly. He then stifled a yawn, a yawn that broke into a soft laugh as a cat’s head came into view, butting into Arthur’s laptop screen apparently because the image jerked. “Shoo, you. Why are you awake?” He muttered, nudging the cat away.

For a guy Alfred was probably supposed to hate, seeing as Arthur devoted  _a lot of time_  to hating Alfred, Alfred couldn’t help but… find him cute.

Like a toddler, that is. Or a puppy. Arthur was a little cute, the way he treated his pets, the way he dressed in his sweaters with his messy blond hair. You’d think someone so stuck up would have an appearance to match that, but Arthur was disheveled in every video. Alfred had assumed it was a stylistic choice but there Arthur was now, on screen and clearly not having put in any extra preparation for the video.

Arthur was disheveled because it was natural for him. It was a cute sort of disheveled. Alfred cleared his throat, as if attempting to clear his mind, as he enabled his video camera. “Hey, can you see me?”

Arthur blinked, startled. “Y- yes. Sorry, you’re very… bright. Give me a moment, I thought this was informal- I’ll just brighten up.”

“I like to have my lights on me when I film to post.” Alfred said with a grin, “Gotta get my best angle.”

“Mm,” Arthur said. He sounded bored. Alfred didn’t know why that bothered him. “So, you’ve got questions or something?”

A light flickered on. Arthur’s room was bathed in the orange glow of a cheap apartment light and Alfred felt an envious flame flicker in his chest at that. Arthur looked good in that light. Alfred suddenly felt ashamed at his expensive setup.

“I’m screen recording right now, yeah.” Alfred said, “But I figure we should get to know each other first!”

“The point of an interview is to get to know things about me, isn’t it?” Arthur said, and he wasn’t very cute anymore, no. He was snippy. Alfred didn’t like that. “So let’s just get started with that.”

“Uh… yeah, okay. Why do you hate me?”

Arthur seemed taken aback by that. “That’s very forward.”

“You wanted me to get started, didn’t you?”

That got to Arthur. He cracked a small, defeated smile and Alfred relished it a bit more than he should’ve. “That I did. As for your question, I don’t hate you at all. I just find you very annoying.”

It was Alfred’s turn to be taken aback. He didn’t know why he believed Arthur would go easier on him in person, why he would drop the act, be nicer. Alfred wasn’t quite sure it was even an  _act_  anymore. “Ouch. Annoying enough to make videos dedicated to how much I annoy you?”

“That’s the purpose of my channel, yes,” Arthur said sternly. He set his jaw. It was a very nice jaw- “I wouldn’t be doing it so much if you weren’t making videos insinuating that I’m _in love_ with you and whatnot. I’ve got my pride to defend, you know.”

Alfred laughed. Arthur smiled, clearly pleased Alfred found him so entertaining.

“Okay, that leads me to my second question,” Alfred said. “Am I attractive?”

“So this video’s going to end up like all your others.” Arthur said with a sigh, “Can’t we do something new? I’m tired of reading fanfiction where I’m the one in denial all the time. I’m always the flustered one. I could use a change. Maybe ask questions that bring out a different character in me.”

Alfred snorted. “You read the fanfiction?”

“Of course I do,” Arthur said with a smirk, “I like the way I’m described in them. Besides, they’re cute sometimes. You’re very charming in them. They entertain me to read when there’s no smut, at least. I skip the smut.”

“That’s where we’re different,” Alfred said, to which Arthur raised his brows. “Come on, I like the way I’m described in them too! They go into a lot of detail about how much you like my abs- yanno,  _what’s under the sweatshirt._  Come to think of it, fanfiction-you enjoys them a lot-”

Arthur cleared his throat. Alfred saw the slightest change in the color of his face. “Well, real-life me enjoys abs as well. Quite frankly, everyone does.” 

“You never answered my question by the way.”

Arthur sighed, “You’re as attractive as you are annoying. Take that as you will. Have you prepared better questions or am I right in assuming this is just your way of getting viewers to think I’m _infatuated_ with you?”

Alfred chewed his lip, laughing off the bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He regretted his decision of the bright white light. He wondered if that made his embarrassment that much more apparent. “To be honest, I didn’t really prepare very well. I rushed into it, di-”

“Didn’t think I’d agree?” Arthur said, cocking a brow.

“It was a longshot.” Alfred said, “But yeah. I didn’t think you’d even reply… why did you?”

“You messaged me after months of indirect conversation,” Arthur said, raising his brows. “It piqued my interest. And as you might know from the sheer number of collaborations I do with Francis, I’m quite easy to wrangle into one.”

Arthur laughed dryly. The motive didn’t seem… complete. Alfred wondered if he was hiding something. “I like collaborations too! I just wanted something new. I was getting tired of the pointless rivalry. Wish I’d thought it through, though.”

Arthur smiled. It seemed polite but it pleased Alfred nevertheless. “That’s the most mature thing you’ve said to date. If you haven’t got any, shall _I_ ask some questions then?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “If you were tired of it, why not just stop? Why this conversation? If you’d quit cold turkey… well, it would only make me look foolish to keep carrying the feud along. That seemed to be the best option to stop.”

Alfred’s breath stuck in his throat.

It seemed obvious what the answer was. What it should be, at least. Alfred wasn’t keen on sacrificing the views, and something told him Arthur knew that. It was almost as if he was cornering Alfred.

Alfred exhaled slowly. “Well… I wanted something new  _with you_. You seem cool. I could always just quit but our subscribers obviously think we have chemistry-”

“Ah, so this is you trying to  _court_  me,” Arthur said mockingly. A cat climbed onto his lap and Arthur ran his long fingers down its back, green eyes watching Alfred coldly.

Villain-esque. Alfred almost shuddered. “Chemistry can mean anything. I just thought you’d be a good… friend.”

“A new addition to your ‘squad’.” Arthur mused with a chuckle. “Right. Come on, this has been going on for months. Something had to have changed. What was it?”

Alfred blinked. He supposed he could’ve just regurgitated the  _it’s_ _getting old_  bit, but, well, Arthur was right. Something had to have changed. Alfred didn’t know what, and he didn’t know how that made him feel. “I…”

“I’m really not a bad person.” Arthur said, “I just come off as rude, I like to be honest. And I  _honestly_  don’t know if, for the lack of a better term, you’re my  _type._  You’re attractive, yes, but we’ve already gotten off to a bad start, you know? How do we ever get back from the fact that I threw hate at you for months on end? Doesn’t sound like the base of a stable relationship of any sort. Although now, I don’t see the point of making more videos about you. This video should clear it all up.”

Alfred could hear his heartbeat. “So you’re what?” he chuckled halfheartedly, “You’re breaking up with me?”

Arthur smiled and  _god_ ,  _he really had no idea._  He had absolutely no idea what he was doing to Alfred, and Alfred wanted to just end the call right then and there, but in all fairness to Arthur, he genuinely didn’t seem to know.

How would he? Arthur had no idea how his words affected Alfred if Alfred didn’t say anything about it. It seemed it was Alfred’s fault for not being more vocal, but he had no idea what to say. He had no idea why Arthur made him feel this way, but Arthur made him feel _a way._

Perhaps it was because Alfred could never handle rejection.

He was making a mountain out of a molehill, but yes, this was a unique sort of rejection. Alfred was  _pretty_  and everyone loved him  _but_ Arthur, and Alfred was mad about it. It didn’t seem very mature, but now that Alfred knew that was how he felt, everything became clearer.

“I’ll give you credit where it is due,” Arthur said, “I’ve been on YouTube for years now and I’ve never left my country for an event before because, well, no one in the States knew who I was until that fateful tourist captured my fancy and all this followed.”

Arthur gestured a lot when he spoke. Alfred found himself entranced in the movement of those nimble fingers- so much so that he almost didn’t catch that  _little detail._

Hell, he was that much closer to suggesting they wrap the interview up right then and there. They would cut ties. They would move on. It would be a decision Alfred made irrationally, of course, and Matthew would chide him for his carelessness and not  _riding out their rivalry situation as much as he could_  because Matthew was sensible. He knew how to run a business.

But Alfred was, as Arthur’s favorite insult to him was to suggest, a child. Alfred denied the accusation all the time, and he might’ve continued to do it forevermore had he not caught a  _little detail_ and, well, got excited. That told him what he needed to know. That he was a child.

“You’re coming to America for an event?” Alfred said.

Arthur blinked. “Ah, yes. I haven’t announced it on my channel yet, but I’ve been invited to a convention in California-”

“I’ll be there too!” Alfred said. It was apparently an outburst because Arthur looked startled and Alfred was practically out of his chair.

Alfred was a child. Arthur was coming to the United States, and  _Alfred was a child,_  because all he could think about was how to prove himself.

All Alfred could think about was getting Arthur to like him. Getting that stone cold exterior of his chipped away, getting Arthur to give him  _one genuine, pleased smile._

And Alfred had never been about thinking things through. That’s why he blurted, “Hey, would you want to meet up?”

Arthur furrowed his brows. “Meet up?”

“Look, I’ll cut this part out of the video but think about it.” Alfred fiddled with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “Our subscribers really like it. They like us. We do a video series together and they’d go crazy! They’d love it!”

Arthur sniffed. “Unlike you, not everything I do is for views.”

“You’d be making them happy,” Alfred said, ignoring the pinch in his chest at the accusation. “It’s about views, yes, but it’s also about giving them what they like. They obviously would want to see it. I don’t see what’s wrong with that!”

“I… I suppose-” Arthur moistened his lips. “It’s getting late. Do I say anything to wrap it up, or-?”

“I’ve got it,” Alfred said, almost dejectedly. He sunk back in his chair with a controlled exhale. “I usually do a separate intro and a conclusion and tie it all in, so we can just…”

“Yes, I know,” Arthur said. “I’d like to see it before you post it, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course. Thank you for your time!” Alfred said. It was his turn to smile politely.

His smile melted away as Arthur smiled back and leaned forward, as if to cut the call. “Wait! Look I… I don’t want to come off as greedy for views and stuff, I just… sorry if that’s how it looked.”

Arthur’s eyebrows were pinched together. “We all want to make successful content. I don’t judge you for that.”

“Yeah,” Alfred said.

Arthur then sighed defeatedly. “I actually… I don’t think it’s a bad idea… your video series. How many were you thinking?”

“I’d break it into three.” Alfred said, a grin spreading across his features, “This would be the first-  _Confronting My Hater-_  and-”

Arthur huffed, “Hater?”

“That is what you are,” Alfred said with a quirk of his lip. “I’d make two more, we can pick titles later, and we’d film before the con. Kinda like… an outing. Hanging out n’ stuff, like-”

“A date?” Arthur said. Alfred couldn’t detect the tone in his voice, but he read embarrassment in the pinkening of Arthur’s cheeks, despite how grainy his image.

“Yeah. A date.” Alfred said with a smile.

“‘I…’ uh,  _‘I Took My Hater Out On A Date_ ’ sounds like a fitting title. S’pose you could get… um, you could get quite a few views with that.” Arthur said with a chuckle, “It’d be your quest for redemption, and I’ll be honest with my afterthoughts, no sugar coating. How does that sound?”

“So if you end up  _falling in love,”_  Alfred cooed.

Arthur cut him off, “If I still find you annoying, I’ll be blunt about it. That’ll be that. I agree with you in that extending this rivalry will do us no good, so we might as well see how this video goes. Either way, I don’t see us continuing the way we were before. I’ll give my final opinion and we can go back to our opposite corners- and, god forbid I like you, maybe we’ll do something about that then. Some collaboration.”

Alfred chewed his lip. He smiled. “Okay.”

Alfred filmed his introduction the next day- “Hey guys! Today I’m gonna do something a little different… this is the start to a three-part series that I’m pretty sure you, my thirsty subscribers, will find very interesting.” A dramatic pause. “And here’s why- because today, I finally talked to Arthur Kirkland. Yes!  _The_ Arthur Kirkland. I  _finally_  wrangled him in and got to ask him a few questions to find out how he really feels about me, and well, see for yourself.”

He then filmed the conclusion. “He doesn’t like me very much. That’s not new. But I’ll be damned if I just let it happen. I deserve a fair chance! So-” Alfred grinned righteously, “Hell, I’m taking Arthur Kirkland out on a date.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaa sorry for the delay in posting. I had to rewrite this entire chapter because I couldn't stop hating this plot LMAO

It was days like these when Arthur Kirkland was glad people thought he was funny enough to subscribe to him, because he certainly wasn’t getting any viewers for that ugly face of his. The reflection in his mirror seemed more battered than usual that morning- perhaps it was the bright white bulbs in the hotel bathroom, making every blemish pinker, the pale tone of his skin even pastier. He practically growled, tearing his shirt open in frustration after realizing he’d buttoned in the wrong holes.

“Why don’t you wear something that makes you look your age?” Francis suggested unhelpfully, lounging on the bed. “You look at least a decade older in that sweater vest.”

Arthur suppressed an annoyed huff. “I always wear sweater vests. Besides, I don’t see a reason to change my wardrobe this time.”

Well, he most certainly  _did_ see a reason, but it was nothing he’d readily admit, no. He was meeting Alfred Jones in half an hour and one would think that having a week in the U.S. to recover from jet lag would be enough to mentally prepare for today, but it wasn’t, because Arthur was still terrified.

Arthur was _terrified,_  and he could’ve sworn his skin looked better yesterday. He chalked it up to the nerves. He chewed his lip as his trembling fingers pushed his last button into the hole and then he paused. He glanced over to find Francis raising his eyebrows in that condescending way of his, the way that had deterred Arthur from betraying that he was nervous in the first place, because when he did, Francis would look at him like he was doing now and drill him,  _psychoanalyze_ him as to why he was nervous in the first place. 

And frankly, Arthur didn’t want to know why. On some level, he supposed it was the pressure of making a first impression that matched whatever online persona Alfred Jones gushed about in his videos. Arthur knew it was a joke, that Alfred cooed about being attracted to Arthur for just the views, but Arthur still felt the need to match the expectations.

He sighed. “What do you suggest I wear, then?”

He regretted asking as soon as he stepped out in a button down shirt a bit too tight around his chest, and a pair of pants a bit too tight around his legs. 

Francis was almost Arthur’s exact size. He just liked to wear tighter clothes. 

Arthur sighed, plugging the address Alfred had sent him into a map application. He didn’t know why he had asked Francis to come along. Perhaps it was because Francis was veteran of the two. He’d been popular for far longer than Arthur, he’d been invited to far more foreign cons, and this was Arthur’s first. It was only logical to bring him along for the advice.

Well, he hadn’t brought Francis along for just the con because Francis had been invited to it as well. He would come along regardless of Arthur’s literal  _begging_ , so Arthur’s invitation to book rooms beside each other at the same hotel, a week before Francis was meant to come to the U.S., was because after Arthur, Francis had been on at least a dozen dates and Arthur had been on… none.

Francis had made it clear to Arthur that this hardly counted as a date, though, and Arthur agreed. But by a different name, this was his still first collaboration after  _a long time_  with anyone who wasn’t Francis. That was the emotional equivalent of a date, wasn’t it? And Arthur was definitely not good at those, not at all. He needed the advice.

So Francis came along, insisting it was only because he wanted to sightsee before the con and if he  _happened_  to help Arthur as well, it would be a mere coincidence. Arthur had agreed with a slight snort.

Alfred didn’t know, of course. To the American, Arthur had flown all the way from England alone to star alongside him in a project he claimed would be “super fun and also really beneficial to both of us, dude!”. They’d called once or twice to discuss their plans and Arthur recalled Alfred repeating the term ‘beneficial’ one too many times. He supposed that was usual for Alfred- he was a young, successful YouTuber. It was all about the views, the brand deals, the relationships, the fame.

It wasn’t the same for Arthur. Money and fame were the perks, but he enjoyed the creative freedom. He enjoyed the fact that millions of people logged on to their computers every week to watch Arthur complain. It was refreshing, validating. It had become a routine.

Alfred also had become a routine.

Making videos about him, watching videos made  _by_  him- Arthur never usually sought out any sort of friendships online. He had met Francis, who had revealed himself to be a YouTuber, and they’d dated and split up, but that was by chance.

He saw himself as someone who made content in his own little sphere, devoid of interactions. The people he mentioned in his videos did reply but Arthur grew bored with them and didn’t pick up a conversation ever again, and his subscribers never minded that. He got a little hate here and there, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

It was different with Alfred. He’d been the only man Arthur’s subscribers had gone  _insane_ about, and it was nothing Arthur couldn’t handle either… to an extent.

It had been easy to manage until Alfred had actually messaged him, until he became  _real_ , and up until then Arthur had coped just fine with Alfred Jones, the American vlogger he would see on screen, with that loud laughter and his scripted skits- just a thing, a part of Arthur’s job as a YouTuber. Alfred had video chatted with him, and suddenly, he was a warm bodied man, and Arthur hadn’t known what to do with that information.

It was something he’d thought about that week as he fought away sleep to catch up with the new time zone. The deprivation could’ve easily muddled with his mind somehow. However, some of his thoughts made sense.

One of which being  _how exactly was Arthur going to normally interact with Alfred Jones._

For months, their conversations had played out through a childish feud. Just recently, their conversations through video chats, through texts, they had all been fine because if anything happened, he could just turn off his phone. If he was annoyed, he could just end the call. If they fell out, there would be no issues because Alfred wasn’t  _there._

Arthur had no idea what he would do with himself when he met Alfred in person.

He sucked in a sharp breath and detoured from his walk into the nearest coffee shop. Nevermind that they were meant to meet up in five minutes. Arthur needed a damn coffee.

He paid for his drink and stepped back out, ignoring the buzzing in his back pocket that he assumed was from an impatient Alfred’s text messages.

Fuck it.

It would be in his right mind to just turn around and go back to his hotel. To never pick up a call, to ignore Alfred at the con next week and go straight back home afterward. Alfred would loathe him for it but it wouldn’t be a devastating loss for him, and Arthur would have the satisfaction of Alfred never knowing that Arthur wasn’t as witty and personable in person as he was online.

After a sip of his coffee, he told himself that his plan was shit, so he sucked it up and walked leisurely to the bus stop they planned to meet at, squinting down at the map on his phone.

As he crossed the street, he couldn’t help but hope a car would hit him or something. Maybe that would buy him some time. 

_God, why had he even agreed to meet him?_

Arthur blinked down at his screen. He then glanced up to match the street name to the address on his phone. He was here.

A man sat on the bench under the stop’s hood, and as Arthur approached him, he grew even more convinced that it couldn’t possibly be Alfred Jones. _It couldn’t, could it?_  Arthur could feel his heart thundering in his chest. 

He was always nervous with first meetings, mind you. Even more so with first meetings after already having had conversations online, when he had the time and the energy to think of funny little responses. He had nothing on hand now. 

Alfred’s skin seemed tanner in person. He looked older. His forehead was creased slightly from the expression on his face, and it occurred to Arthur that he’d never seen Alfred look anything other than comically excited, bubbly, or the rare seriousness in those conspiracy theory videos.

Alfred Jones looked bored now. He looked slightly annoyed. It was a real expression from a  _real man_. Arthur’s pace slowed down as he watched Alfred move from being engrossed in his social media to flipping to his phone camera with a frustrated sigh.

“Hey, guys! So… I’ve been waiting for a while out here. It’s kinda chilly out here in California, which is new.” He glanced to his side, the side that Arthur was not on. “Anyways, I’m starting to think Arthur flaked out, because it’s been almost half an hour, so there’s that, I guess. I’m-”

“And to think you said  _I_  complained too much,” Arthur said, before he was even aware the words were on his tongue.

Alfred practically jumped in his seat. He turned to face Arthur with startled eyes, an expression that melted into what seemed to be awe, and then something plain that Arthur couldn’t place his finger on.

Alfred kept his phone recording. “Sh- shit, hey Arthur! I was… I was just-”

Now that Arthur stepped closer he supposed he could call the expression  _bewilderment._ Alfred confirmed it in his next words. “Sorry, man, it’s so weird seeing you in person.”

Understandable. Arthur felt that he had to reply, but he couldn’t think of anything to say, damn it.  _On camera too._

He decided to drink his coffee so he wouldn’t have to speak and Alfred did the work for him. “Also, I’ve literally never seen you in anything that’s not a sweater vest.”

He laughed at that and Arthur blinked, pausing mid-sip. Oh.

He felt heat creeping into his cheeks. It occurred to him that Alfred was wearing something new as well, besides his normal baggy sweatshirts. 

He wore a well-fitting tee now. Arthur wondered if it was for the same reason.

“Right, well, sorry for the delay. I had to get some coffee. You know… uh, jet lag.”

“Yeah.” Alfred agreed half-heartedly. “Um…”

Arthur moistened his lips.

Alfred’s eyes remained wide, as if he was nervous himself. A deer in the headlights. A blush spread across his cheeks when he realized he’d been zoning out. “Sorry about the complaining- uh, I was just getting, uh, footage… for the- uh, the,”

Arthur blinked. He must’ve scared the guy. So much for a kind first impression. “Yes, I know. Sorry, I was just joking, mate.”

Alfred coughed. “Oh. No, that’s okay!”

It seemed Arthur would have to lay off the sarcasm for a while. Duly noted.

He wasn’t, however, going to leave behind his entire personality. He did make his brand out of making fun of people after all. “You’re less eloquent off-screen,” Arthur remarked.

Alfred laughed, and Arthur extended his hand, “Arthur Kirkland, the man you’ve been harassing for months.”

One mustn’t be fooled by the nonchalant tone in which he delivered the dialogue. He’d practiced it in front of his mirror for weeks.

Alfred accepted the hand with a bashful grin, “Alfred Jones, your… uh… internet-designated love interest.”

Arthur laughed at that. “Well, that’s really your doing. Your suggestive videos don’t help much.”

Alfred smiled back… for a while, actually. Quite blankly staring. Arthur’s smile dipped into one of worry and Alfred glanced back to his phone camera with a clear of his throat, “Okay, so here we are! We finally met!”

“I was under the impression that you had some sort of plan,” Arthur said, paving the way for Alfred to set the video up.

Alfred grinned, “Yep!”. He looked into the camera. “The con’s not for a few days, so I asked Arthur to fly out early. On a long list of things I have planned, the objective is to take my favorite hater out for a good time, in the hopes that maybe, by the end, he sees me different.”

Arthur almost smiled. It seemed Alfred rehearsed something as well. 

Arthur scoffed instead. He was the ‘hater’ of the video, after all. “Hardly likely.”

Alfred was nervous, he was  _fidgety,_ and that became apparent to Arthur. It was nice, really, because now, Arthur’s shoulders were less tense. Alfred was intimidated by Arthur, and that gave Arthur power. 

Alfred kept the camera on them. “We’d better get started!”

He led Arthur to his car, opening the door for him. “A gentleman, I see,” Arthur said.

“You know it.” Alfred’s laugh bordered on a giggle. Arthur smirked. It was funny.

He then un-smirked upon realizing Alfred had attached cameras on the dashboard, one of which faced Arthur directly.

Not to mention there was another camera attached to a man that sat in the backseat. Arthur nearly had a stroke,  _“Jesus fuck,_ I didn’t see you there-”

The man sat up straight. “Oh, jeez, sorry for scaring you! I’m Matthew, I’m just here to… uh, do the camera work.”

“Mattie, meet Arthur,” Alfred said with a smile. “Arthur, meet Mattie. You might recognize him as a member of the _squad_. He’s here to film us while we hang out!”

He then turned to the camera. “So, now, we’re gonna take Arthur to my first stop in an itinerary that I’ve kept a complete secret from him.” He glanced at Arthur with a wink. “This is going to be one hell of a date.” 

Alfred started the car. He put an arm behind Arthur’s seat as he backed out and,  _shit,_ Arthur was blushing. He was most definitely blushing now, and that stupid camera caught it- he coughed, turning his head to look out the window.

He hoped Matthew hadn’t noticed.  _What the fuck was wrong with him today?_

Maybe it was because Alfred had just said _date._ It was in the title of the video, yes, but they both had been calling it a ‘collaboration’ for long enough that hearing Alfred say it had thrown him off again. 

He tugged at his sleeves, raking his mind to come up with  _at least a few cool one-liners he could use to trick Alfred into thinking he was amusing, come on! There had to be something he could say!_

He drew a blank. That was, until Alfred parked at a McDonald’s and Arthur was back in his element. “A  _McDonald’s?_  Is this where you take someone on a date?”

“Hey, my plane ticket cost a lot,” Alfred said with a slight smile. “And I’m not made of money, you know. We’ve got to make compromises like this.”

Perhaps it was because they had a cameraman trailing them as they walked in, but it seemed everyone in the restaurant had their eyes on them as they took a seat. Alfred was oblivious to it. “Have you ever eaten here?”

“No,” Arthur mumbled. “I’ve not exactly heard the best reviews for it.”

“Then let me order for you! In all honesty, it’s my favorite place to eat, so I thought it’d be cool to bring you here!”

And then Alfred was gone, leaving Arthur sitting at the table alone with a camera in his face.

Matthew didn’t seem to like him very much. That was understandable, really, seeing as by the similarity in their facial features, Alfred and Matthew seemed to be related, and Arthur hadn’t been the nicest man to Alfred.

It was something quite a few people had gotten on his case about.

Although a good amount of folk on YouTube enjoyed their interactions, there were some that tweeted at Arthur, that clogged his comment section, that vehemently opposed any sort of relationship between them. Alfred’s fans were protective, and some  _most definitely_ wanted Arthur to stay away.

They’d called him manipulative. They’d accused him of leeching off of Alfred for views. Even before Alfred had hinted at wanting to collaborate with Arthur on his social media, some of his fans had warned him against going anywhere near Arthur even with a ten-foot pole.

Arthur wasn’t made of metal. Needless to say, it hurt. Just a little.

Perhaps that was why he had replied to Alfred’s message so quickly. Maybe he had wanted to prove himself to their audience just as much as Alfred had wanted to prove himself to Arthur. Redemption went both ways, it seemed.

When a few minutes or so had passed and Matthew _still_  hadn’t spoken a word, despite his easy-going demeanor, Arthur tried his luck. “So you… um, came all this way to film a date?”

Arthur punctuated it with a laugh. Matthew smiled, a bit too coldly for Arthur’s taste. “He asked me to do it as soon as he had the idea. Besides, I came for support. In case he hurt himself, or something.”

It seemed like a joke. However, Matthew’s eyes said different words.  _In case you hurt him._ Arthur felt the urge to shudder.

Alfred came back with a laden tray. “Alright, dig in!”

And Alfred inhaled his food faster than Arthur could even take his out of the wrapping. He blinked in awe as he nibbled on his third fry only to see Alfred finishing what seemed to be an entire burger.

Alfred smiled, abashedly. “I eat fast.”

“No kidding.” Was Arthur’s reply. “You’ve got ketchup on your eyebrow, mate. How the hell does that even happen?”

Alfred blinked, pointing to his left brow. “What, here?”

“No- the other.”

“Here?”

“To the left- no, the other left- no you passed it!” Arthur sighed, leaning across the table to swipe the condiment off Alfred’s face. “Got it.”

He wiped his finger on a napkin.  _Alfred’s skin was was surprisingly soft._

He cleared his throat. “How often do you eat here?”

Small talk. That’s how dates went, didn’t they? It had been a while since Arthur had to think about what to say. Well, seeing as it had been a while since Arthur  _willingly_  went out to get to know someone new, it made sense.

Alfred seemed to have no problem. “A lot, actually.” He laughed. “Do you eat out often or are you a cooking sort of man?”

Arthur snorted, recalling the scorch marks on some of his pans. “No, I am not. Baking, maybe, but I can’t live off of biscuits, so I order in.”

Alfred nodded. He then blinked expectantly, as if expecting Arthur to continue the conversation.

Oh. “Uh- do you like biscuits?”  _Fuck_. Alfred was furrowing his brows now.

“I… guess? It’s a southern staple. My grandma makes them all the time, just the right amount of buttery- I’m from a Southern family, yanno! It’s practically our culture… if we can even call it that.”

He stopped again, smiling, and  _damn it, Arthur was supposed to reply or something!_ That’s how a conversation worked! But it seemed anything he could get out smoothly was either an insult or a dry-humored joke.

Definitely not date-worthy conversation. “Ah, I was actually talking about the British term. See, biscuits where we are… are cookies here, I believe.”

_Again with the biscuits!_ Arthur wanted to kick himself.

Alfred smiled half-heartedly. “Oh… uh, the more you know.”

Silence.

At this rate, the video was quickly becoming a quest for Arthur to prove himself worthy rather than the other way around. Alfred was looking at him like with pity now, possibly because Arthur was frankly  _the definition_  of what went wrong when people finally got what they ordered online. 

Arthur busied himself with eating his food. That way, he didn’t need to talk.

“So, how’s the food?”

Arthur chewed. He chewed some more, and then some more, because he was a slow eater and  _Arthur wanted to kick himself._  Alfred’s smile faltered on his face as he waited for Arthur to swallow.

Arthur choked a little. He coughed and Alfred’s smile was gone. “Dude, you okay?”

Arthur coughed again. His cheeks burned. He sipped some water. “I’m- I’m fine, sorry. The food is…”

He supposed he could’ve lied to spare Alfred’s feelings. At least a lie would’ve salvaged what Alfred already thought of him. The best option at this point was to be polite until he figured out how to not act like an antisocial _idiot._

However, the words left his mouth before he could swallow them. “It’s awful. I can’t eat another bite.”

Alfred’s brows shot up and Arthur winced, prepared for another fake smile, but Alfred seemed entertained. 

Arthur was being mean and Alfred liked it.

_As long as he liked it-_ “I get it now, really, why you’ve decided to ask  _me_  out of all people. You keep bringing your dates here and they keep ghosting you until you have no choice but to downgrade. That’s truly how horrible this food is. Take my advice next time and try a restaurant without a dollar menu instead.”

And Alfred laughed. He laughed, and laughed some more, and it wasn’t too awkward anymore, which put relief in the pit of Arthur’s nervous, bubbling stomach.  _He’s still got it._

“Wow, you’re hard to please,” Alfred said. “I don’t know why I expected anything less, to be honest.”

Arthur recalled Francis answering a question Arthur had drunkenly asked a while ago.  _How on God’s earth were you ever attracted to me?_

“I don’t know.” Francis had said breezily. “You were funny. You were also a dick. So maybe both of those.”

It seemed Alfred thought the same, because his cheeks were flushed with color now. Arthur didn’t mind that at all. “And hey, you’re not a downgrade.”

“Alright, so I’m an upgrade. The ones that your phone keeps pestering you to get until you finally do, and it’s… ugly to say the least. Utterly unappealing. Ruins your whole aesthetic.”

Alfred snorted out a laugh, biting his smile as he shook his head. “You’re never gonna get a second date from anyone if you keep talking about yourself like this.”

“Good.” Arthur huffed. “I don’t want one.”

“Maybe I can convince you otherwise,” Alfred said.

The second stop in Alfred’s plan to “convince Arthur otherwise” was a movie theatre. Alfred opened the door for Arthur. “I was thinking we could watch a nice horror movie now. You know, scientists say you feel closer to somebody after you sit through one together.”

“Is that so?” Was Arthur’s reply.

Matthew filmed them up until they bought snacks at the counter. Alfred’s treat, yet again. He bought nearly everything that caught his eye. Soon enough, Arthur was cradling an assortment of candy boxes in his arms as Alfred tackled the large coke and the popcorn.

“That coke is bigger than your head,” Arthur remarked. Alfred laughed before turning to Matthew.

“You can head out now, Mattie, I’ll get you when we’re done.”

“Cool,” Matthew said.

“What?” What Arthur’s contribution to the conversation.

“I just thought we’d give him a break.” Alfred said, “He wanted to go look around and shop, so I figured this could be the time for him to do that!”

“So… he’s not filming,” Arthur said lamely.

Alfred nodded, a concerned look enveloping his expression. “Uh yeah, he’s gonna take a break. Besides we can’t film in a theatre, Artie.”

The startled look in those wide blue eyes had betrayed that he hadn’t meant to let the nickname slip. It was likely because he’d said ‘Mattie’ quite a few times, or whatever the excuse was that Alfred had babbled right after. Arthur wasn’t paying attention to him.

What he  _was_  paying attention to was the fact that with Mattie gone, with no filming, this was an  _actual date._  It wasn’t some sort of skit, or a mere video premise, they were  _on a date._  They were going to the movies. Alfred was paying. It was a date.

Arthur seized up for the umpteenth time that day.

“Dude… you- you okay?”

Arthur blinked. He shook his head. “Yeah, I’m fine, sorry I was having a weird moment. Enjoy your break, Matthew.”

Alfred broke out into a grin. “Sweet! Let’s grab some good seats.”

It was a date. 

Arthur was sweating now and Alfred was oblivious to it all. He seemed alright with it, and maybe he really was. Maybe all those videos of his, asking Arthur to drop the act and just slide into his DMs, truly meant… what they said.

After all, YouTube was full of couples these days. People dated, they broke up, and breakup videos in particular seemed to break the internet _every single time._  Exes would continue making videos in reference to their old relationships and subscribers would pine for a reunion. The whole thing guaranteed views. It guaranteed more subscribers, fame.

Maybe Alfred wanted that.

Alfred pretended to yawn, throwing an arm around Arthur in a cliché, and Arthur flinched.

_God, maybe Alfred really did want that._  Maybe Arthur was too stupid to have realized the implications of their collaboration until now. Maybe he really was that daft. 

Alfred then laughed like it was a joke, so Arthur relaxed slightly into the cushion behind him, rolling his eyes as Alfred kept his arm on the top of Arthur’s seat. 

Or maybe it wasn’t that deep.

“So, did you like the movie?”

“I would’ve focused better if you hadn’t been chewing your food so damn loud the whole time,” Arthur grumbled.

“You focused just enough to jump into my arms every few minutes.”

Arthur flashed him a mock murderous look, cheeks burning, and Alfred laughed. “Well, it’s called a  _jump scare_  for a reason, Alfred. And your arms just  _happened_ to be there, seeing as you couldn’t keep them to yourself.”

“Touché.”

Alfred then pulled out his phone, stepping behind Arthur as he aimed the camera in their faces.

“Wh- what are you-”

“I was taking a picture,” Alfred said warmly. “I haven’t really told anyone that we were actually collaborating yet. I was going to wait until I edited all the footage to post but I thought we could just post a lil’ selfie to rile them up.”

“Right,” Arthur said. “A little teaser.”

“Yeah!” Alfred replied, breath warm on Arthur’s neck. Click.

Alfred posted it on his snapchat story with a caption, a picture with his arm thrown around a slightly scowling Arthur, a bright smile on Alfred’s face:  _I liked the movie. He didn’t._

“My twitter is going to blow up tonight.” Alfred mused with a laugh, “You want a picture for yours?”

Arthur shrugged. “I don’t really do teasers.”

Alfred’s smile faltered. “Oh, okay!” He cleared his throat, “It’s getting kinda late already, so I’ll call Mattie.”

That was it? It all seemed to go by so fast. Arthur followed along behind Alfred as he stepped out to get on his phone. Alfred tossed him a stray smile before he turned away, “Hey Mattie. Yeah, we just got out of the theatre. I’m about to- yeah, we’re about to… okay, cool. Yeah, I’ll call you when we’re done.”

Arthur cocked a brow as Alfred pocketed his phone. “Done?”

“I have just one more trick up my sleeve,” Alfred said with a wink.

Arthur’s stomach churned. “Oh?”

“It’s a bit of a walk, though, if you don’t mind that.”

Arthur parted his mouth for a joke. Maybe something about Alfred’s clogged arteries not being able to handle exercise from all that fast food. “I don’t mind, it’s lovely out.” Was what came out instead.

Alfred grinned. “It is, isn’t it?”

Silence. Arthur blinked at their calm surroundings, matching his pace to the sound of Alfred’s rhythmic footfalls as they walked down the sidewalk. Alfred glanced at his phone screen, as if referencing a map. Arthur attempted to peek and Alfred jerked away.

“Nuh uh, Artie. It’s a surprise.”

He didn’t seem to mind the nickname now. Arthur decided not to mention it. He huffed. “Can I at least have a hint?”

“Nope,” Alfred said.

“Are we close?”

“Almost there.”

Silence again. Alfred seemed interested in the ground as they walked. Arthur cleared his throat. “So, um, you come here often?”

Alfred looked up at him, amused, and Arthur’s cheeks reddened. “-to the con!”

“Yeah, I do,” Alfred said. “It’s really fun. I love meeting my fans.”

“I personally can’t stand preteen boys,” 

Alfred laughed. “That’s not my only demographic, you know?”

Arthur let himself smile. The silence seemed less uncomfortable now. It was peaceful, almost. 

Alfred’s hand bumped into Arthur’s by accident. Alfred apologized. Arthur shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“So, how’s it like being a YouTuber who does reaction videos?”

Arthur pondered the answer for a while. “There are a lot of them. It’s difficult to differentiate yourself from the rest. I suppose that’s where my struggle lies.”

“Me too.” Alfred said, “With gaming n’ stuff. Like you said, all of us sound the same.”

Alfred laughed and it was a twist in Arthur’s gut.  _Had he said that?_ Looking at Alfred now, the small, slightly rueful smile on his lips- no, no. This would be a problem. 

He’d said what he’d said and that was that. Taking it back would give Alfred the wrong idea. Arthur was not going to make an insincere, half-hearted apology. “I wasn’t lying when I said that. However, not all of you are the exact same person, so you’re already somewhat different from the rest. Besides, you’ve got the figure of a damn bodybuilder. People will keep watching you. You’ll be fine.”

Alfred perked up at that, cheeks flushed pink as he laughed. “Thank you. And you’ll be fine too. You work out too, right? I could tell in that video… with you in that boxing ring.”

Arthur laughed. “My viewers hardly log on for anything other than my personality. Let’s leave it at that.”

Alfred opened his mouth as if to say something. He then pursed his lips, coming to. a stop. “Okay, we’re here.”

“We’re where?”

“Here!” And that was definitely a restaurant Alfred was pointing to. A restaurant that could be called one, that is. Soft lantern light bathed the outdoor eating area. Black, sleek marbled walls told Arthur this was not just some fast-food dump. “I thought we could grab some dinner. I made reservations close to the theatre, I heard this was a good place to take someone out.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “I could use some fancy eating.”

Fancy eating indeed. Alfred had hardly ruined his appetite with all that popcorn because he was inhaling his food here as well. Arthur winced as Alfred slurped his soup.

“Could you get any louder, mate?”

Alfred’s table manners were atrocious, naturally. He’d begun to eat before Arthur got his order, he’d gotten food on his shirt, his laughter was almost as loud as his words, and if there had been any other couple eating around them they sure as hell would’ve had something to say about it. However, it hadn’t bothered Arthur as much as it should’ve.

Arthur supposed he would’ve stood up and left if it had been anyone else, if Alfred hadn’t been blissfully unaware, grinning and laughing at the jokes Arthur made at his expense. He’d pulled the chair out for Arthur in the beginning, plucking a rose from the vase at the table to offer it back to Arthur with a flourish.

“M’lady.”

Alfred was completely and utterly _a bumbling idiot_ , but he managed to be somehow charming at the same time, and Arthur hated it.

He hated the feeling in the pit of his stomach as they walked out to wait for Matthew’s car, the lurch in his body as Alfred threw an arm around him and flipped his phone camera to face them.

“So we just got dinner. Tell me, how do you feel about me now?”

Arthur averted his eyes. “I feel like I would’ve liked it if you ate your own food and kept off my plate.”

Alfred laughed at that. “You had to have seen it coming!”

Arthur _did_ have to have seen it coming.

_Look at that face._  That chiming laugh. Alfred had most definitely never faced  _a single problem_  in his life because everyone loved him. The world was his oyster. How long did Arthur think it would take him to get sucked into that black hole? To inevitably soften up to YouTube’s golden boy?

Arthur attributed the squirming in his stomach to the fact that, any minute now, he would have to swallow his pride and confess it. After months of hating, he would have to tell Alfred’s camera that it had all been petty because Alfred was still so damn annoying, but Arthur liked it.

He hated that.

Well, maybe he could still fake it. That was always an option. However, one look at Alfred’s genuine, beaming smile told Arthur he would be the world’s greatest asshole if he did.

He then wondered what he would say. _I guess you’re alright._  It didn’t seem very genuine.  _I don’t know-_  it wasn’t the ending Alfred was likely looking for to his video series.

Arthur didn’t know why he hadn’t thought about it longer. It’s not as if he’d expected to hate Alfred upon meeting him- a little part of him knew Alfred would thaw him, chip away at his exterior, so Arthur should’ve planned out what to say. He supposed he’d put it off for too long, spending his free time doing  _anything he could_ to get his mind off the meeting rather than to sketch out what he would say at its end.

Thankfully, he had a little while longer to think about it, because Matthew drove up and Alfred dropped the subject momentarily.

He sat in the back next to Arthur. He continued filming. “Special requests for where to go next?”

Arthur shut the door. “I don’t know… it’s getting late.”

Alfred looked up from his phone, lips turned down in a slight frown. “Aw man, you’re right. Today was so much fun with you-”

Arthur smiled lightly, lips parted for a reply.

“And we got a shit ton of footage too!”

Arthur swallowed his words. Although, he wasn’t very sure what words had been on his tongue. He chewed on his lower lip, leaning back in the car seat to gaze back out the window. “Yeah.”

“Hey, since the camera’s still running, let’s wrap this up,” Alfred said, with a nudge to Arthur’s shoulder, and Arthur flinched yet again. Not hard enough that Alfred would’ve heard, no. Just hard enough that Arthur practically sunk into the back seat,  _good god, what is_ wrong _with me today?_

Alfred turned to the camera, waggling his eyebrows. “So, final thoughts? Still hate me?”

Arthur’s stomach sunk into the seat beneath him and for a reason he couldn’t put a finger on, he had absolutely no words. Not even filler ones. He could hardly manage a breath.

For a YouTuber that made his subscribers, his brand, his _everything_  on his words, his humor, his ability to come up with a quick reaction to nearly  _everything,_ he had no idea what to say.


	5. Chapter 5

Alfred was bullied as a kid.

It was just the usual, of course. They’d called him “braceface”, made fun of the bowl cut his mom  _insisted_  made him look adorable, the glasses too big for his face, but it was nothing he ever talked about it because, well, it was nothing.  _They were children_. 

He’d grown older, and even before his shoulders broadened, before he joined the football team, everyone was okay with him. Just like that, they’d grown out of it. Nobody gave a damn about braces or glasses in middle school. So Alfred had been bullied, yes, but it was never anything serious.

What it  _had_  been was a sort of revelation. It had given him insight into the minds of ex-attackers. The kids who’d made the rude comments when they were younger were always the ones that were nervous around him in class. They laughed at his jokes, they made good company, yes, but they were always so  _shifty._  Alfred chalked it up to the fact that it meant they were guilty.

Applying a similar analysis to Arthur Kirkland, Alfred concluded that Arthur was the same. He was guilty. 

It was either that or he had a very,  _very_  strong emotion of some different nature. That was as far as Alfred could tell.

“So, final thoughts?” Alfred asked, cautiously, seeing as Arthur looked just about ready to puke any moment now. “Still hate me?”

Arthur blinked. He took a controlled breath, parted his lips as if to say something, then furrowed his brows and shut his mouth. He didn’t speak.

It was weird considering his behavior on their actual date.

To sum it up, Arthur was everything Alfred had imagined he would be. Imagined in the sense that, well, Alfred had thought about how they would meet almost every second of free time he had. He’d thought about how he would prove his worth, how he would dial up the charm, how Arthur would laugh at all of Alfred’s jokes- after all, Alfred _had_ practiced them.

To better phrase it, he’d scripted a few. Some movie puns for when they were at the theatre, a few quirky anecdotes he’d stored in his head for use during small talk- Hell, he’d even had the perfect introduction planned! He’d put at least ten times more care into the tentative script for their meeting, praying to god it wouldn’t deviate from his expectations, than he did for any of his most popular videos. “Wow,” He had planned to say. “Your camera really doesn’t do you justice.” And he’d wink.

It was for their audience, of course. They’d go crazy for it. And in the scenario he’d crafted in his head, Arthur would blush in response and stutter out some sort of insult.

Alfred’s scenario had in no way included Arthur being so late to their meeting that Alfred had completely forgotten what he’d meant to say.

Alfred’s scenario had, however, included Arthur’s tight shirt, so he was somewhat pleased by that, at least. They had ‘beef’, sure, but Arthur was hot regardless. Alfred had his fantasies.

Arthur wasn’t doing too hot right now, though. Alfred caught Matthew’s curious gaze in the front mirror and gave him a slight shrug when Matthew raised his brows inquisitively-  _Is he okay?-_ when Arthur wasn’t looking.

Which was now, seeing as he was staring out the window, as if Alfred had never asked him a question. His expression told Alfred he hadn’t forgotten, just that he was possibly hoping to god that Alfred had.

Alfred cleared his throat. “Arthur?”

Arthur winced, just slightly. Alfred wondered if Arthur hoped he would drop the subject.

Any other day, of course, Alfred would’ve backed off. Especially seeing as Arthur looked ready to throw the car door open and make a run for it, that’s what Alfred should’ve done. Arthur’s brows couldn’t possibly be more knotted together. It was the right thing to do. The guy was suffering.

That should’ve mattered to him, but somehow, it didn’t, because Alfred  _needed_ Arthur’s response. He assumed then that it was because he’d waited so long for it.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m… I just-” Arthur blinked. He blinked again. “Er- sorry, what was the question again?”

A quick glance out the window told Alfred they were near Arthur’s hotel. He clenched his jaw, just a bit. “I was just gonna wrap the video up. Final thoughts? Did this date change your opinion of me at all?”

Arthur blinked again and _he was doing that a frightening amount of times now._ Maybe there was an eyelash stuck in there- “Well… um, if I were a man witnessing our entire date in the third person, I would most definitely detest you. God, you’ve got awful manners. And you’re still annoying.  _Very much_ so.”

Alfred paused at that, smile faltering. What?

_That was it?_

He shouldn’t have been angry, but he was. Not that he’d spent all that money trying to please Arthur Kirkland, not that Arthur was stubbornly holding to his initial impressions, because Alfred didn’t care about any of that, no.

What he  _did_ care about was the fact that he thought Arthur actually liked him.

Alright, so not love at first sight. Not love at first date. Alfred could practically hear the subscribers whining, but all of that was irrelevant. Alfred didn’t expect Arthur to just drop down on his knee and propose, nor was Alfred expecting a sudden change of character, a swoon, a-  _oh, this whole time, I’d been so, so wrong about you! I really do want to slide into your DMs!_

A friendship? It would be appreciated. Mutual respect? It would be  _much_ appreciated! The same exact answer after an entire date, one in which Arthur was enjoying himself, smiling,  _opening up-_  not so much. Alfred was mad, to say the least, because if Arthur had really hated him through all that, Alfred would be satisfied with that answer, but he hadn’t.

Alfred was downright devastated until Arthur’s lips spread in a small, smug smirk and Alfred released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Ha, ha. Come on, man, this is the part of the video where I’m supposed to be playing heartfelt piano music.”

Now that Alfred really paid attention, Arthur’s expression seemed off. It seemed a bit… forced. As if for the camera.

Arthur proved Alfred’s hypothesis when his shifty eyes darted between meeting Alfred’s gaze and making hard eye contact with the camera lens.“It’s how I feel, Alfred. Can’t change it for the sake of giving your video an emotional tone.”

“So you still hate me?” Alfred said, and he laughed, but he definitely did _not_  feel like laughing. “After this entire date? You better reimburse me then!”

“For what? I hardly ate anything compared to you.” Arthur retorted, eyebrow cocked. He seemed relaxed now, shoulders less taut. He was in his element.

Unfortunately, that meant he was still joking. Alfred needed a bit more than light-hearted banter. “Really, though… is that still how you feel?”

Arthur’s smile fell. He glanced out the window. He glanced at the camera. He looked back at Alfred.

“I… I suppose I-” Despite somewhat understanding that his intent gaze likely stressed Arthur into not being able to speak, Alfred was staring at him now. He hadn’t noticed until Arthur averted his eyes. So Alfred averted his as well. “Off the record… you want me to be honest right now and it’s not really the type of video I make.”

Alfred’s brows pinched together, “You’re- but you’re always honest in your videos. That’s kind of your thing, isn’t it?”

“I’m genuine, sure,” Arthur muttered. “But I hardly ever make videos about… my feelings and whatnot. I’m not quite sure what to say.”

“Say… the truth?” Alfred said. Unhelpfully. He watched Arthur, unsure of what else to say.

“Thanks for the advice,” Arthur said dryly. His inhale was deep. He then sighed, “I… look, I don’t do this often and… I just… “

Matthew pulled into Arthur’s hotel and Arthur practically shrunk into his seat in relief. Alfred wanted to smile at that. He wanted to wish Arthur a goodnight and he wanted Arthur back under the soft sheets of his hotel room. Maybe Arthur would curl up with a book, watch some television to calm his obviously jumpy nerves. Alfred wanted him to rest.

So that’s why he was surprised when he found himself blurting- “Don’t feel pressured to reply right now, you can think about it for a while if you need to. We’ll park.”

Arthur furrowed his brows. “We can’t just… um, do it tomorrow? We can-”

Alfred smiled. Tightly. “We can just get it over with now. I wouldn’t want to take up your time!”

“You wouldn’t be-”

“Besides, the faster we get the footage, the faster I can edit and put the videos out!” Alfred said in reassurance.

Arthur’s expression faltered. Alfred could’ve sworn he saw a tinge of annoyance.

That should’ve been his first cue to let it go. Arthur would’ve been better off with rest. Perhaps he would have time to think about his answer. He could plan what to say. It would be smoother then. Better for the video.

Well… Alfred supposed he could just use what he had now. He could’ve full well, and  _easily_ at that, just changed the concept, tweaked it a little. It could’ve been a funny video, and in that case, what Arthur had said in good humor would be enough. Alfred would get his video, Arthur would get his rest, and it would be a win-win situation without the unnecessary pressure.

Despite the new video idea being just as good, Alfred found that he was hesitant. It wasn’t as appealing as, say, having Arthur come out and tell him he liked him.

That led Alfred to conclude that he could give a damn about the video. He wanted something else entirely.

Here he was, Arthur Kirkland, the man Alfred had spent countless hours of his own time crafting a perfect, casual date for. He’d mapped out what to do- he’d spent nights on end sleepless, just thinking about possible responses to possible things Arthur could say in their time together. He’d never been good at thinking things through before a decision, yes, but like hell was he ever going to be unprepared for  _Arthur Kirkland._ Not this time.

He supposed that in all his preparation, he hadn’t thought about the fact that Arthur might be hesitant in any way. It was  _Arthur Kirkland,_  he always had a way with his words. And well, he claimed to be unscripted, so what was the problem now?

Arthur looked like a mouse caught in a trap and Alfred had no idea why. Frankly, at the moment, he hadn’t even cared why. Because there he was, Arthur Kirkland, about to tell him he liked him, or not, or whatever, Alfred didn’t know but he cared.  _He wanted to know._  His blood bubbled inside him, his stomach churned, this was Arthur Kirkland and this was  _now_  and Alfred wasn’t sure he’d survive a minute longer without his validation.

Validation.

Ah. So that was it.

The word emerged like an absolute truth in Alfred’s mind. It grew less hazy as the seconds passed.  _Validation._

Alfred wanted validation.

Yes, that’s what he wanted. It was clear as day now, and to Alfred’s horror, that didn’t stop him, not one bit, and it should’ve. It didn’t deter him in the slightest that Arthur was at a loss for words, that he needed rest, because  _Alfred wanted them_. He wanted those words. He wanted Arthur’s opinion of him, and he wanted it right then and there.

To hell with the video.

Alfred smiled expectantly and Arthur sighed, expression contorted into something of mild distress. “Alfred… If I knew what I wanted to say, I’d have said it by now. I just….”

Alfred suppressed a frustrated sigh. “Is there anything I can do to make it easier?”

“Yeah.” Arthur ran a hand through his hair. “Can I just- I’d like to think about it for a while. I’m free tomorrow-”

“But that wouldn’t be genuine!” And Alfred heard his words after he’d said them.

He felt the scene in the third person. He felt like an entity, mind hovering above body. A body that, due to the lack of moral conscience within it, was spurting out complete and utter nonsense, excuses, _garbage,_  and Alfred had no way to clamp his hands over its stupid mouth.

Matthew’s concern was palpable. “Alfred… Just give him a break, we can get him tomorrow.”

Arthur was no longer meek. His voice took on a steely tone, one of a person agitated by an accusation. “Why wouldn’t I be genuine tomorrow?”

“No, it’s just that-” Alfred laughed out the heat building up in his lungs. He was an idiot- he was- he-!

He had no idea what he was doing.

No matter how prepared, no matter how scripted, something about him always ruined it all. This time, it was a strange thing inside him. An impulse never before named nor recognized. He felt faint. “I mean… what you say today is more ‘in the moment’, you know? Tomorrow, it’d be different, you could just-”

“Lie?” Arthur said.

Alfred didn’t reply.

“I don’t know why you’re so adamant right now, Alfred, it’s honestly-” Arthur mumbled. He crossed his arms. “I could lie right now if I wanted to. It’s not even an issue of time!”

He then paused, as if a gear clicked in his head. 

He looked up from his previous gaze into his lap, eyebrow raised. “You know what? Let me just lie right now.  _Thank you so much for today, Alfred! Everything I ever said about you was wrong! Just like your millions upon millions of subscribers, I blindly love and support you!”_

He smiled a saccharine smile. It scared Alfred just a bit. “Wh- Arthur, what are you-?”

“That is what you wanted to hear from me, wasn’t it? That is what you wanted me to say on your camera, so you can post it and tell the world that I, Arthur Kirkland, like any other person that criticizes something you do, is wrong about you.”

Alfred blinked incredulously. When he didn’t reply, Arthur scoffed, “I’m right, aren’t I? Well, there’s your footage. Have a good night.”

And Arthur threw open the car door, sliding out of his seat to stomp out of the parking lot.

Alfred didn’t take the time to register what Arthur had said, to return Matthew’s shocked stare. He didn’t  _have_ the time, no, not when Arthur was leaving, and he certainly seemed upset. He was upset with Alfred.

Alfred didn’t take the time to register how wrong it was, that he was only concerned with the fact that he didn’t want Arthur Kirkland to be upset with him, and that was all. Not why he’d hurt him, not what Arthur had said, no. Just that Arthur Kirkland  _could not_  be mad at him.

“Arthur, wait-!”

Alfred abandoned his camera, scrambling to catch Arthur by the shoulder and Arthur stopped. He didn’t turn to face Alfred. He simply crossed his arms.

“Arthur… I’m sorry.”

Arthur sighed. He turned around, expression softening just a bit, but judging by his smoldering eyes, it was just to be polite. “Sorry for what?”

Alfred chewed his lip. “I… I’m sorry you felt that way,”

Arthur chuckled. He shook his head, “How sincere.”

“You’re wrong-”

“Right,” Arthur said. “You like it when I’m wrong, don’t you?”

“N- what? No! Listen-” Alfred sighed, hands curling into his pockets. He eyed the ground. “- I just… I wanted you to like me, is all. Even just a little.”

“That’s what you tell yourself,” Arthur said, pointedly. “To make it seem like what you’re doing is all innocent.”

The anger was back. He furrowed his brows, taking a menacing step forward before he was even aware what that meant, what sort of impression that action would give Arthur, who took to stepping backward in alarm. “Yeah? And what exactly makes you think you’re right about my  _evil motives?”_

Arthur smiled ruefully at that. “It’s simple. I’m your ‘hater’. That’s the name you’ve given me in your titles, isn’t it? I’m a representation of your critics. You’ve conducted a redemption arc for yourself, for the sake of your channel, for views, for subscribers, and that’s fine. It’s business, I expected it. But none of this is genuine, it never has been. You don’t care that I like you. You care that everyone knows I’m wrong, that people like me, that criticize you, are wrong, so it doesn’t really matter if I take the time to craft a thought out response, does it?”

Arthur was eloquent after all. Just when it came to telling Alfred what was wrong with him. 

He turned to leave and Alfred debated just letting him go. All he’d wanted was some validation! Was that so wrong? All he’d wanted was a childish affirmation that he mattered to Arthur, just a little, because Alfred wasn’t used to people not liking him for any  _real_  reasons. 

Alfred didn’t have a bowl cut this time. He didn’t wear braces. In fact, he was  _perfect,_ he was beautiful now, wasn’t he? Successful? But Arthur had found fault in him. All Alfred had wanted was for him to see Alfred differently. 

He contemplated just letting it go, just watching him leave, then going back to his hotel room and deleting every second of film, just to prove Arthur wrong. 

… to prove Arthur wrong.

That sounded an awful lot like what Arthur claimed was his evil motive, didn’t it?

Arthur paused. He turned again. “I hope you will forgive my outburst. I didn’t know how to put it without getting a tiny bit angry. I don’t intend to leave here just to continue hating you, and I’m not mad at you. So don’t give me that face.”

Arthur smiled plainly at that. Alfred’s shoulders relaxed. He attempted a small smile of his own. “It’s hard not to make this face after your whole accusatory speech.”

“I’m right, though, aren’t I?” Arthur said. “Listen, I never hated you, okay? I don’t hate you now either. I’d never even thought I’d want to go out of my way to criticize you. It just came to be. We were sucked into it, given roles in a big game. A performance for subscribers. That’s all it was. And careers like ours have a tendency to control our motives, to warp how you think, how you react, so you get sucked into it like some woodchipper and shredded back out. I thought I was above it, though. I suppose I’m not mad at you as much as I’m just mad at myself for… not having seen it sooner.”

Alfred thought he understood what Arthur meant.

He hadn’t, of course. Not entirely. Not until he was back in his hotel room, after he’d stepped out of a long, mindless shower to find text messages on his phone-

 ** _I understand I made a commitment to collaborate with you. If you want to film again, I’ll be free tomorrow morning at 10AM, same place. If not, I’m sorry for wasting your time and I’d prefer it if we didn’t keep in contact after this._**   ** _I hope you understand._**  Alfred dried his palms and attempted to text back. 

He didn’t know how to reply.

He put his phone away with a frustrated sigh and curled into bed to review the footage.

\- Alfred hadn’t understood until he’d started, until his eyes squinted to the screen to see Arthur’s small smile at something Alfred had said as they got into the car. It could’ve been polite. Alfred could’ve just been funny. That moment hadn’t been very clear.

It wasn’t until Arthur’s smile slipped away at the sight of a camera, until his face had fallen, just a little, to see Matthew in the backseat, that Alfred threw his head back to hit the wall behind him with a groan.

“I’m an idiot.”

Alfred wasn’t so perfect after all, it seemed.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Im so sorry Arthur, like so so so so sorry :(_ **

**_Im honestly such an ass, I shouldnt have forced you to film last night, dude Im honestly so sorry_ **

**_I got really excited about the project and in all of that, I guess I didnt think to stop and ask how you felt about it. That part was all my fault, I never think things through as much as I should_ **

**_I really did want you to like me, but I guess you’re right because I was too focused on getting it on film so maybe that was because I wanted everybody else to see that you liked me? Idk I feel like thats also true because you were telling everybody I was annoying and I thought it would make me feel better if everyone knew that you actually came to like me and that I was actually a really nice guy or something. That makes me pretty narcissistic doesnt it?_ **

Arthur blinked groggily at his phone screen. He then rolled his eyes at Alfred’s self-pity and nearly turned his phone back over so he could get some sleep.

Nearly, that was, until Arthur saw the last text.

**_I know you really liked me though. I’m sorry I wasn’t satisfied with the subtlety but honestly, I really didn’t notice lol im not good at picking up on stuff like that. Im really sorry and I really wish we could_ **

Arthur stopped reading at that. He then blocked Alfred’s account and put his phone away, curling deeper under his blanket.

He dug his head into his pillow with a groan. God, he was fed up with it all. He was fed up, _to hell and back,_ with this whole situation. With Alfred Jones. Because last night, he'd laughed.

He’d sat there in front of Arthur and told Arthur his words wouldn’t be genuine if he’d had time to think about them. He’d then  _laughed_ defending himself, and that’s when Arthur knew.  _Who laughed at that?_ Who laughed a nervous, forced laugh at an accusation  _that harsh_  if they hadn’t been guilty of doing something worse?

That something worse being the fact that he’d been seconds away from pointing a gun to Arthur’s head to get him to confess something on camera.

Arthur turned over. He then sighed. When it became clear to him that he wasn’t going to be able to sleep, he heaved himself to his feet and washed the tiredness out of his eyes. 

His phone buzzed on the nightstand and a quick glance told Arthur it was Francis. He ignored it.

He left his phone behind after he’d spent a good minute staring at his tired face in the mirror, pressing his palms onto his tired eyes, running them down his cheeks with a groan and then he was out the door to eat his complimentary hotel breakfast. 

Needless to say, he’d hardly slept that night. 

“Arthur Kirkland? Oh my god, can we get a picture?”

Arthur glanced up at the two girls before him. He smiled. “Of course!” 

He’d hardly slept that night, evident by the droop in his eyelids and the pallor of his skin, but  _he’s still got it._  It was an ego boost of a sort. It was a reassurance. There he was, all alone, all fucked up, and he was doing fine.  _He’d be fine by himself._

That was his rationale, of course, for why he was so  _damn_  good at ignoring people, things, situations, his own conscience. He grinned, albeit tiredly, as the girls both took a picture with him. A picture on one girl’s phone. A picture on the other girl’s phone. Then a picture with each of them separately. And then a picture of just him. Arthur’s smile remained plastered on his face the whole time.

He was also awfully good at pretending.

“I can’t believe we saw you here! We bought tickets to the con just to see you!”

Arthur smiled wider.

Not as good as he thought, however, because the girls left him with a parting note and Arthur’s smile faltered. “And we’re so excited to see your collaboration with Alfred Jones! That is what you guys are doing, right? Alfred didn’t say anything about it but-”

Arthur blinked. His smile dulled into a faint, polite curve of his lips. “I hope you two have a good day. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my breakfast.”

“Sure! Thank you for the pictures!” They left giving each other strange glances. Arthur wondered if they’d start some sort of conspiracy about it, some twitter thread about ‘the secret behind Alfred and Arthur’s collaboration’. Arthur spared a small smile at that and went back to his omelette.

Maybe he wasn’t so good at being subtle.

After all, Alfred Jones, a self-proclaimed  _oblivious moron_ , had caught on to Arthur as well, even if it took a painfully long time. Arthur hadn’t even been aware he’d been giving off clues, but now that he thought about it, maybe he had been.

Maybe he hadn’t been so subtle about not hating Alfred. He’d let the idiot put his arm around him, he’d let Alfred talk on and on and Arthur had pretended to be interested when Alfred nervously filled their silences with awkward small talk, and well, Arthur was never usually so kind. He liked to think he was blunt. He liked to think people knew he was blunt.

So naturally, the revelation made him even angrier at Alfred Jones for not having noticed that  _Arthur was making an effort._  It was stark enough from his usual polite demeanor that Alfred should have noticed.

Arthur didn’t know what Alfred should’ve made of it, but all he knew was that Alfred should have known. He should’ve known better. He should’ve known that Arthur didn’t hate him and that should’ve been enough.

He grit his teeth, sipping his water to fend off having to get all worked up over it, all over again. He repressed it. He blinked, sighed again, and retreated to his hotel room.

He would ignore Alfred. He would ignore the situation, and it would go away.

If one didn’t know him, they’d think it was out of character for him to avoid a fight, because, well, his career revolved around him picking fights, didn’t it?Perhaps. But Arthur preferred to be alone. He preferred silent enemies to the fake friends made through the guilt of confrontation and poorly resolved fights. Arthur would be fine alone.

It was difficult,  _Alfred made it difficult,_ but Arthur would be fine. He managed. He managed blocking Alfred on Instagram after his incessant DMing, not bothering to actually read the messages. He blocked Alfred’s number when he messaged his phone. He put down the phone when Alfred called directly into his hotel room- not before giving in to the pressure building up in his chest from the sheer annoyance of it all.

“I think I’ve made it clear that I want you to stop trying to contact me,” Arthur snapped.

He should’ve put it down right after, but he waited for a response. He didn’t know why.

Alfred seemed irritated as well. “I thought you said you weren’t mad at me!”

“I wasn’t,” Arthur said. “I am now. I asked you not to keep messaging me, so stop texting me, and don’t call me again.”

His hand hovered the phone away from his ear a bit shakily, but he waited again despite the building impulse in his arm to just slam the phone back down onto its receiver, just to be dramatic.

He then blinked, taken aback a bit by his own reaction. It wasn’t often he’d lose his temper. 

Well, situations such as these didn’t come often either. 

Alfred sounded small. “But… why? If you weren’t angry, then why can’t I talk to you?”

Arthur’s exhale was controlled. Slow. “Because… I told you. I don’t want to be shredded.”

“What?”

“Look,” Arthur sat on his bed, both hands clutching at the phone, “I don’t want to be involved anymore. I don’t want to collaborate- and you can post your video if you want, I don’t care, I just don’t want to be a part of anything more with you.”

Alfred was silent for a while and Arthur wondered if he’d hung up. He hadn’t. “Well, that doesn’t sound like you weren’t angry. That sounds personal.”

Arthur nearly growled. “It’s not personal. It’s-”

“It’s what? You’re mad at  _the industry?_  You’ve said that before, but… it seems like that’s what you tell yourself.  _To make it seem like what you’re doing is all innocent.”_

Arthur paused. He blinked. 

His own words from last night.

“Leave me alone, Alfred. Goodbye.”

He hung up.

He also resolved that he would ignore Alfred better from now on. No more slipping. Even if Alfred was right and Arthur was a hypocrite- Maybe in his course of ignoring, he’d be ignoring a bigger problem that lied underneath, a bigger reason for all his anger, but Arthur would never know because he resolved never to think of the entire situation long enough to come up with an answer. 

He would stay away from Alfred. That way, whatever the underlying problem with him would be, Arthur would avoid that as well.

Arthur was stubborn, yes. He was also angry. He was also  _cautious._  So despite the fact that Alfred Jones was practically a meter away from him at a pre-convention party the next week, Arthur was still adamant on not making so much as a second of eye contact. 

Arthur turned his back to avoid Alfred’s piercing blue gaze. “What’s the agenda for these things? Are we going to be meeting fans?”

Francis eyed his nails. He then glanced at his phone. “This is a creator party. We just walk around and socialize to make YouTube connections. I don’t think there’s any other way I can say ‘socialization’ so you’d understand.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes but chose to swallow his scathing reply. Francis then glanced up, catching someone’s eye across the room with a cheerful wave. “Loosen up! I’m going to go now- hey! You can go speak to your American, I see him right there. He’s looking-”

“Francis. Stay.” Was Arthur’s two-word reply. It was practically a beg. Francis raised his brows accusingly.

“Arthur, what did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Arthur muttered.

Francis’ left eyebrow lifting condescendingly was the reason Arthur had kept him out of the loop from the entire situation. Arthur contemplated ignoring Francis’ biting questions. Maybe he’d go attempt conversation with other people after all. Knowing Francis, it would bring about less pain in the end.

“You clearly upset him, he looks like a… kicked puppy,” Francis said. “So what did you do to him?”

“Nothing.” Arthur pressed adamantly.

“Fine,” Francis said, equally stubborn. “Then you won’t mind if I-”

And like an out of body experience, Arthur watched in horror, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to  _do a damn thing_  to stop Francis as he waved his hand and smiled in Alfred’s direction.

“Alfred Jones! I’ve never actually met you!”

Alfred perked up at that. Arthur wilted. He shuffled backward, nearly cowering behind Francis as Alfred approached them.

He was wearing a sweatshirt.

“Hi! You must be Francis!”

Francis smiled. It was smug. “My, my, you’re indeed as handsome as Arthur described.”

“I never said that.” Arthur felt obligated to mutter. He averted his eyes as Alfred glanced at him.

Arthur couldn’t see it but he was positive Alfred was blushing to the roots of his hair. “Aw, thanks, man. You’re… uh, you’re really pretty too.”

Francis smiled. “I don’t actually hold the same opinions as my bitter friend here. Your content is funny. Interesting. Clearly better than Arthur’s seeing as you’ve been a featured creator here for a while already.”

It was Arthur’s turn to flush red. He crossed his arms, choosing not to answer.

“That’s not true!” Alfred said with a light laugh. “Artie’s hilarious, it just took a while for him to get an American audience.”

“How was the date?” Francis asked, lashes fluttering.

Arthur elbowed him. 

“Oh come on, mon ami, you know you’d never give me the details over your cold, dead body. I have to get them from  _somewhere!”_

Alfred laughed. “Uh… not so good, considering Arthur won’t even look at me.”

Arthur grit his teeth. He shuffled backward a tad bit more, to which a hand on the small of his back startled him into a gasp as it shoved him forward. He met Francis’ hard gaze with a mouth incredulously agape.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, but this isn’t high school. You can’t keep running away from conflict  _you_  started.”

“I didn’t start anything!” Arthur said in his defense.

“I know you well enough. You definitely did. And now you’re ignoring the problem.” Francis tossed his hair, setting it behind his ear with a manicured acrylic. _“Talk to him.”_

He then turned to Alfred. “I’m leaving, but It was nice to meet you, Alfred! Let me know if he tries running again and I’ll drag him back-” He shot Arthur a pointed look for emphasis, “By the ear.”

Arthur shot him back an equally seething glare. His glare followed Francis all the way across the room until he was practically out of sight, and Arthur was left with no other option but to clear his throat and reluctantly turn to meet Alfred’s eyes.

Alfred was smiling. Arthur was not. “Thanks for telling on me. Real mature of you.”

Alfred raised his brows. “The fact that you’re mad  _I told on you_  doesn’t make you mature either.”

Arthur crossed his arms tighter. He didn’t reply.

“Are you really ignoring me because you don’t want to end up like me?” Alfred said, raking a hand through his hair as if he was frustrated, “Because you don’t want YouTube to suck you up like it did to me? Was I really that awful?”

“Yes,” Arthur said. “The fact that you don’t understand how horrible it is that you were willing to push me into a  _panic attack_ just to tell you  _I thought you were fun to hang out_   _with_ on-camera concerns me.”

Alfred’s expression softened. 

“I know I suck. I’m not going to try to justify what I did because it sucked, I know, but I wish we could talk about it. It was a dick move, but that doesn’t mean you have to never speak to me again forever.”

“When you put it that way, you make me come off as the bad guy,” Arthur said. “When in reality, I told you very nicely that I’d prefer not to keep contact. But then you decided to be  _utterly annoying_  and message me  _incessantly_ , so try seeing from my point of view why I blocked every one of your accounts.”

Alfred’s face flushed pink. Arthur almost felt bad for being so harsh.

_Almost_  being the operative word. Arthur was still angry. He didn’t owe Alfred any sort of explanation. 

“You’re being so defensive, Arthur. All I wanted to do was to talk it out. You can’t just ignore me, that doesn’t solve anything.”

“That’s how I cope,” Arthur said, mildly serious. “I don’t want to solve anything. And why do you care how I do it?”

“Because- I-!” Alfred sputtered, as if surprised Arthur didn’t understand. “I don’t want you to hate me? It’s really that simple!”

“Why does it matter if I do?” Arthur said nonchalantly. “I’m not going to make any more hate videos. Maybe I’ll make a video telling everyone I don’t hate you. Would you leave me alone then?”

“Now who’s making everything about subscribers?”

Arthur furrowed his brows at that. His lips parted for an argument, for something to wipe that smug, self-satisfied look off Alfred’s face. Arthur’s cheeks heated up, his fingernails dug into his forearms.

Alfred beat him to it. “I know I’m an ass and I put you through a lot, but I want to make it better if I can. We went on a date, we talked for a whole day, I’ve watched almost all your videos, and I like you. You’re fun!  _I like you._  I wanted to be cool with you.”

“What does that even entail?” Arthur muttered. “You’d go through all this confrontation, all the calling, and texting, and  _bothering_  just to be able to call me a friend? To message me once or twice?”

Alfred moistened his lips. He then grinned, pushing a dimple into his cheek. “What can I say? You’re just that cool. I want you in the squad.”

Arthur’s heart squeezed. He swallowed hard, cheeks burning hotter the longer he let Alfred’s words sink in.

Alfred blinked, wide-eyed, “N- not that I want to make views off of you or something! I’d never! I promise, I’d delete all the footage from the date, never mention you in my videos again if you want, and you can tell the world you hate me, I don’t care. I just want a second chance.”

Arthur considered it. He chewed his lip. He then sighed. “Look, I… I don’t know if I can-”  _Trust you. Believe you._

It seemed Arthur’s mysterious underlying problem came barreling into clarity. 

Alfred could be lying and Arthur could be hurt. Again. 

Arthur didn’t want to be hurt again.

That could very easily happen in their circumstance, wrapped up in a world of influence where both of them could easily be rendered powerless. Arthur didn’t like to be powerless. He didn’t like  _chance._  Alfred could be telling the truth, he could be pure of heart, but just how easily had he hurt Arthur under the influence of his career? It could happen again.

Arthur met Francis before he’d known he was a YouTuber and they’d been bombarded even then. Subscribers of Francis blasted hate in Arthur’s comments for ‘dumping him’. Twitter accounts debated whether Francis ever deserved Arthur. Countless numbers of people criticised their choice to remain friends.

Arthur supposed he was in too deep with Francis to have gotten out.

With Alfred, however, he could catch it just in time.

Alfred stood there paused, as if holding his breath.

“You can post your video. Everyone’s been looking forward to it, and I wouldn’t want to be the reason you withhold it from them.” Arthur uncrossed his hands. He picked at sleeves of his sweater. “I just… everything we are has been because of subscribers, views, our petty little fight- it doesn’t make a strong enough foundation, Alfred, and before we can even think of making another one… what we are is too rooted in our career. I can’t let my personal relationships start that way. It’s… It’s too risky for me.”

Alfred released his exhale. He smiled, softly. “I get it, you know. People suck. People can make other people suck, and that… sucks.” Alfred punctuated it with a light laugh. “But it’s still good to clear it up, so now I know. Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”

Arthur shook his head. He supposed he should’ve smiled, should’ve done something to tell Alfred he wished it didn’t have to be that way, but for once, it seemed Alfred picked up the hint. He smiled wider, a tinge of sadness in his eyes.

“See you around, then, Kirkland. It was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Arthur said.

“If I can say one last thing, though,” Alfred said, seriously. “You don’t have to pick between a personal life and your career. I know you like what you do, but that doesn’t mean you have to let it keep you from… hanging out with someone you like.”

And he was gone, leaving Arthur pondering his words, with brows furrowed, in his wake.

Arthur didn’t like being powerless. 

Yet now, with his back against the wall behind him, the party blurring around him, unknown sounds and unknown people, Arthur felt powerless. He felt powerless to it all. To his own emotions, his own decisions, what he thought was his attempt to distance himself from hurt revealed itself to be yet another display of the tight grip of his career on his limbs. His arms and feet, his  _everything,_  bound at the mercy of his fans, his subscribers.

It was ironic. Usually the kind that Arthur would appreciate, would smirk at, but all Arthur felt now was a sour taste in his mouth.

Arthur supposed he liked Alfred Jones.

Alfred was an annoying idiot, yes, but Arthur liked him.  _He made sense._  

Arthur should be allowed to pursue that, shouldn’t he?

Granted that he couldn’t think of a word to express it with, not unlike the last time he’d attempted to tell Alfred how he felt, he supposed he owed it to himself to set out and try. To take back his power, in a way. 

He walked forward reluctantly, scanning the crowd. 

This would be his next move. He mapped it out in his mind. He would walk up to Alfred and just  _tell him._

He supposed the whole thing was a bit childish now that he thought about it, but he supposed Alfred was right. He had to get over it. He’d be a hypocrite not to, wouldn’t he? To pretend he wanted to do something about the way he felt in his industry when every step he made was still governed by it.

Arthur retreated back against his wall with a sight sigh.

Alfred stood in the middle of a crowd with a bright grin on his face, chatting away at whoever would listen. It seemed Arthur’s  _taking back the power_  would have to wait. 

It had waited until the party was over and Francis dragged him to a restaurant he’d heard raving reviews about. 

It had waited as Arthur attempted to sneak a conversation with Alfred during the convention only to be bombarded with fans of his own. 

It had waited after every day of the convention when Arthur would collapse into his bed with exhaustion, too tired to lift his phone much less make any conversation with Alfred- and on the days he was fine, chipper, energetic enough to do what he’d been waiting for, he ended up letting Francis get him drunk.

It was then it struck him that Arthur didn’t want to talk to Alfred Jones.

_He was doing it again._  He was finding every reason not to. He was avoiding the situation. He supposed he could let it stay that way, seeing as that came to him by default.

He supposed he could also just pick up the phone and call Alfred Jones, just as easily.

He called Alfred Jones.

Alfred picked up almost instantaneously. “Arthur? Did you-?”

“I was wrong,” Arthur said. He sat in bed, legs crossed. His body tensed as he hunched over, elbows on his thighs.

Alfred didn’t say anything. He then laughed, just a little. “Well, that’s just what I wanted to hear, wasn’t it?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You were right. Me pushing you away was just another way for me to be… shredded, if you will. I wouldn’t have come to that conclusion on my own without you, so… thank you.”

Alfred laughed again. This one was of relief. “Okay, and you waited so long to tell me this because?”

Arthur exhaled sharply, almost in frustration.  _Well it was obvious, wasn’t it?_ Arthur was scared. Alfred had to have known that! It wasn’t a hard deduction to make.

Arthur regretted unblocking Alfred’s number.

He then sucked in a breath. “I can’t expect you to just read my mind, can I?”

“Not really, no,” Alfred said. “I’m not very good at that.”

“Then we’ll have to work on that as well,” Arthur muttered. “I can’t expect you to just  _know things_ , and I can’t just… ignore you when I’m mad. But you’ll have to be able to deal with that while I’m working on it. No pushing or forcing me to do things.”

“Right, of course! Definitely!” Alfred said, “…so these are the terms and conditions for our friendship, I’m assuming.”

Arthur paused. 

Arthur liked Alfred Jones. He didn’t know just how much yet, of course, but he was feeling rather bold. He was feeling powerful, uninhibited, and  _risky-_  

And stupid. 

“Actually, I think we should go on another date.”

He regretted saying it as soon as the words left his lips. He winced. He contemplated turning his phone off, changing his number, denying ever having said those words.

Arthur was an idiot.

It seemed like hours since Alfred hadn’t said a word in reply, and Arthur nearly sobbed. “Um, actually, just- I’ll just unblock you from all my social media so you can text me again. I’ll… I’ll go do that now, bye.”

“No, wait-” Alfred said. “I… I’m actually on my way to board a plane back home. I can’t…”

“No, yeah, of course.” Arthur stammered. He bit his lip. Hard.  _Shut up_. “Have a safe flight.”

Well, he supposed that was that.

Arthur wasn’t too sad about it. For all he knew, Alfred was the worst man in the world. Arthur could hate him only weeks into their friendship- or perhaps Alfred could’ve been something more. It didn’t matter to Arthur, not as much as the fact that it was now Arthur’s choice to make.

He’d made the choice. He’d said the words. It was all that mattered.

Nevertheless, he was just a tiny bit sad,  _just a bit,_  but he would survive. Arthur fell back onto his bed with a slight smile, hanging up the phone and pressing it to his chest.

Arthur would be all right.

Francis seemed to notice the change in his mood. He smirked at him as Arthur sat cross-legged on his bed. “Did you and your American make up?”

“Yeah, we’re fine now, we-” Francis held out two different shirts, eyebrows high as if expecting Arthur to pick. They had decided to stay back a few days to tour the state before they returned home. Francis had made some mysterious reservation. 

He’d dragged Arthur into his hotel room to prepare. “Um, the purple one. We talked it out. I’ll admit, the whole thing was a little bit silly, but I suppose now I understand where we both came from. I’m feeling a lot more mature about everything. It’s… refreshing.”

“That’s good.” Francis put on the green shirt. Arthur narrowed his eyes. “I’m still disappointed you let that handsome, broad, back get away without dragging your nails all across it. It’s a crime, you know.”

“We’re friends.” Arthur wrinkled his nose. “You don’t have to shag everyone you find attractive. By that logic, I’d be obligated to seduce my pizza delivery man.”

“The one with those pretty brown eyes?” Francis said with a snicker. “Obligated indeed.”

Arthur jerked up at the sound of three firm knocks. 

“It’s room service here with my toiletries, go answer the door.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. Typical. 

He slid off the bed  “The front desk is only a short walk away you know. Making them come all the way here is a bit of an arsehole move.”

Francis squinted into his mirror with a smirk, sketching on an eyebrow. “Hm.”

It became apparent that  _room service_  hadn’t been behind the door as soon as Arthur opened it to find Alfred Jones standing there red-faced, bags in his hands. “Can I kiss you?”

Arthur blinked, stepping backward incredulously. 

He had to have heard that wrong. 

“Alfred?”

“I missed my flight,” Alfred said, expression contorting into one of annoyance. “I skipped it. How do you expect me to board after dropping that bomb on me?”

Arthur’s cheeks flushed red. He stammered. “Um, I’m… I’m sorry?”

“I…” Alfred shook his head, “I can’t start a relationship long distance.”

“I understand, I don’t mind at all!” Arthur said. “And I’m sorry you missed your flight, let me reimburse you for it-”

“Can I kiss you?” Alfred said again.

Arthur paused. “Wh- what?”

“You’re hot.” Alfred dragged his bags into Arthur’s room when Arthur stepped to the side. Arthur took a bag of his own and helped him in, a searing hot blush spreading on his face. “And I… I mean, I have thought about you in that way. Fucking you, I mean.”

Arthur sputtered, balking at Alfred’s blunt confession. Alfred continued, as if unaware he’d said anything to warrant Arthur’s reaction. “But I hadn’t thought about dating you until… I just… well, I missed my flight, so I thought we could… start now. I have no problem with  _continuing_  a relationship long distance.”

A small frown played on Arthur’s lips. “So you want a trial to see if I’m worth staying back?”

Alfred’s smile melted. “What? No! I just wanted to see what it would feel like, I thought it would be appropriate because we did go on a date, didn’t we? I mean,  _I really want to_ , I just, I thought I would ask since I  _missed a flight_ \- it’s cool if you-”

“You’re hopeless.” Arthur kissed him.

He supposed he could’ve waited for Alfred to finish. Arthur wasn’t in a hurry, and he certainly had wanted to see how Alfred would recover. He supposed he could make fun of Alfred. He could dissolve the situation if he wanted to, but it was really all so romantic, wasn’t it? Alfred missing a flight, coming all the way to the hotel room, professing his love… somewhat.

It was a little funny. Arthur could appreciate that. 

However, he didn’t really want to dissolve it as much as he had wanted to match it. 

This was his next move. He just hadn’t bothered to map it out.

He hadn’t really wanted to.

Alfred dropped his bags, cupping Arthur’s face as Arthur pressed his lips onto Alfred’s, albeit a bit awkwardly.

It had been a while since Arthur did anything like… that. They bumped noses. Alfred laughed, tilting Arthur’s head as he came in again for a softer, open-mouthed kiss. It was slow, patient. Arthur’s heart fluttered in his chest and he gripped Alfred’s shoulders to keep from nearly crumpling to the ground.

He let his hands trail up the back of Alfred’s neck but it seemed Alfred was done by then. Alfred pulled away abashedly. Arthur dropped his hands to his sides, shifting backward with eyebrows raised.

“So did I make the cut?”

Alfred nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “Oh yeah.”

“Sorry about the flight.”

“Trust me, it’s fine,” Alfred said with a wink. “I can afford another ticket.”

Despite the fact that Francis was annoyed to no end that Alfred tagged along to their reservation,  _“I gave him my hotel room number when he texted me but I thought you would do all the dating and whatnot after what I’d planned for us, Arthur! I’m hurt!”,_ that he’d been forced to third wheel when he’d planned the whole thing himself, Alfred took Arthur out on a date.

It was a second date, nevertheless, so Arthur didn’t know what he felt. He didn’t know if the third date would be the deal breaker, if they’d end up getting married, if they’d have a terrible falling out, but Arthur liked Alfred for now and that was all that mattered.

Arthur had made the choice. 

Alfred’s phone camera stayed tucked away in his pocket. He’d spent the day holding Arthur’s hand, laughing at Arthur’s nervous jokes-

Arthur would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter has an... interesting format! Since the fic takes place talking about social media and whatnot, I thought it would be cool to let you guys play the role of a few subscribers and ask Alfred and Arthur, your favorite YouTubers, some questions, and they’ll answer it in a Q/A!
> 
> The questions can be anywhere from asking about how they felt in certain places, any doubts you had, and also how their relationship has progressed! You can assume Alfred posted the three-part series!!
> 
> Arthur and Alfred are celebrating their two year anniversary! I’ll be taking questions for about three days on my Tumblr!
> 
> www.gallifreyanlibertea.tumblr.com/ask


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